


The Huntress Pt. IV

by indigo_skye5



Series: The Huntress [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angels, Angst, Badass!Reader, Dean Winchester Bears the Mark of Cain, Demon Dean Winchester, Demons, Drama, Empath!Reader, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Ghosts, Hunting, Mark of Cain (Supernatural), Men of Letters Bunker (Supernatural), Minor Injuries, Monster Hunters, Mystery, Original Female Character(s) - Freeform, POV First Person, Post-Demon Dean Winchester, Reader-Insert, Romance, Season/Series 10, Soft!Reader, Swords, badassery, reader POV
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-16 22:41:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 29,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29215068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indigo_skye5/pseuds/indigo_skye5
Summary: She and Sam Winchester, while in love and pretty happy, must find and save the third in their trio, Dean Winchester. They know just one thing, Dean has to get the Mark of Cain off. But as they go through their search, something else haunts her dreams. She and the Brothers continue their journey together.~~~~~Reader Insert of Season 10 of Supernatural, where we follow our Empath Reader through her romance with Sam which of course has taken another drastic turn.
Relationships: Sam Winchester/Reader, Sam Winchester/You
Series: The Huntress [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1844254
Kudos: 4





	1. Black

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and I search for Dean, but we come to a pretty bad pitfall when we cross paths with some one else looking for the elder Winchester.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m back y’all! Here’s season 10. Worked so hard on it, and working on season 11 now. This has been hell of a ride writing this story, and I’m beginning to thread in a plot line that I’ve had the idea for since I started season 7. I can’t wait for you guys to enjoy this one. Love you all and enjoy!-Indigo

_“Goodness can be found sometimes in the middle of hell.”_ —Charles Bukowski 

  
  
  


It had been weeks since we had last seen Dean. Sam and I were both on our wits end. I was worried sick, not only for Dean, but also for my Sam. He was growing more impulsive in his need to find his brother, and he had become angrier. 

Never at me, but at the demon’s we would find on our search. 

“Another crossroads demon?” I asked him while he drove the Impala. “It’s getting more and more dangerous everytime Sam. We can’t keep going to them. One of these days, they’re going to send a freaking _Hellhound_ our direction to give us a hint.” 

He had waves of determination, “baby, I know. But they have direct lines with Crowley...they have to know _something_ about Dean.” 

I huffed in frustration and looked back at Cas. He remained quiet usually during our arguments, thankfully. I felt a little embarrassed at this one. “Sam, I love you. I love your brother...but I’m getting worried. I don’t like the person you become when you're interrogating them.” 

“I won’t get that bad this time, I promise.” 

I looked out onto the dark road. “You said that last time.” We both grew quiet. We had been getting into arguments more and more over the last weeks of the search. Growing tired of going down the same roads with no leads on the elder Winchester. 

“What’s going on with you?” He asked, casually trying to veer from himself. “How did you sleep last night?”

“You know how I slept. Piss poor.” I said dryly, “Nice change of subject.” 

“Sorry.” He said with a wave of guilt. He had been worried about his brother, and we both hated fighting with one another. “But really, _how_ are you?” 

“I would like to know as well.” Castiel said quietly. 

I sighed. Truth was, I wasn’t doing well mentally. I had been fighting constant nightmares. To the point where I would wake Sam with my screaming. Struggling with the trauma of being tortured under Metatron’s orders made the search for the third of our hunting trio all the more difficult. On top of that, I was grieving Sandriel, the angel who died protecting me. Making that phone call to Josephine and Chadwick was one of the hardest I had to make. I hadn’t heard much from them since. Cas had offered a number of times to help with the nightmares as well, but I refused, not wishing for him to waste his grace, and because I wanted to deal with it on my own. 

“Not any better than yesterday.” I replied. 

We fell quiet again until we reached the dirt crossroads. Sam and I had done the song and dance so many times, it was maddening. We summoned the demon, grabbed whoever it was and trapped them. Did some torture and all that. 

This one was another man in a suit, I had been the one to summon it this time, and smiled at me wickedly. “Hey sweetheart,” he said walking towards me with waves of anticipation. “Tell me, what do you desire?” 

Before I could answer, Sam and Cas tackled him from behind and held the demon knife to his throat. “I want to know where Dean Winchester is.” I said, then showed him my demon sword that I hid behind my back. “Let’s talk shall we?” 

The demon laughed and flashed his red eyes. “Oh I heard about you three.” With swift movements, he got out of Sam and Cas’ grasp and threw a punch at him, causing Sam to drop the knife. The demon then threw Cas off with his magic. As I rushed them, he then grabbed Sam by the right arm and used it to throw him a few feet away before turning to me. Unfortunately for him, I ramed him right through with my sword, killing him quickly. 

Sam then groaned in pain, clutching his right arm. “Sam!” I rushed and dropped my sword to kneel next to him. 

“Ah! My arm.” I took a look at it. His shoulder was completely dislocated and his elbow didn’t look so good either. Cas then came up to us. 

“Oh crap.” I said as we helped him up, and took him to the Impala. 

“Why did you kill him?” He asked, as I put him in the front seat. I knew I couldn’t heal broken bones no matter how hard I tried, and Cas was in no shape to heal it, so urgent care it was. I then grabbed the knife and sword and threw them in the back seat with Cas as soon as I jumped in the driver’s seat. “Why did you kill him?” He asked again. 

“Cause he would have killed all three of us. There will be more demons.” I started the Impala quickly. “Let’s get you looked at okay?” 

He slumped against the front seat, waving off intense pain. “Yeah, let’s do that.” 

The demon practically destroyed his elbow, and his shoulder was pretty nastily dislocated. After getting it reset, we were lucky enough to know he just needed to spend five to six weeks in a sling. The next morning, I sat down with Cas. He said he was ready to take off to look for Dean. 

“You want to take off?” I asked him. We were drinking coffee at the kitchen table. Guilt wafted off him. 

“I feel that I could do more if I’m out there looking...and so that neither of you could get hurt because of me.” 

I took his hand that was resting on the table, “Cas. It wasn’t your fault. It was a stupid demon that got the best of you, that’s all. You want to go look for him...that’s okay, but don’t think that Sam got hurt because of you. We’re okay. We’ll find him. I know we will.” 

Cas smiled softly at me and said, “thank you.” Cas left the next day in his search. Sam and I were both sad to see him go, but we knew that it was needed for all of us. 

Still a few days later, Sam wanted to try again. It was a small argument, but I relented, knowing he would sneak out to do it anyway the stubborn ass he was.

So that night, we found another demon. This time she was easier to capture. We had already started slicing into her, having her handcuffed to a tree, hands above her head. I ignored the familiar position best I could. 

She was wafting off anger as she started her speech, “I heard the rumors. I said ‘no, that can't be.’ A Winchester, one of us? But it's true, isn't it? Whatever soul you had; whatever boy scout code you cuddled up to at night; it's all gone. Leaving what? Look at you!” 

Sam stared at her darkly. Pure anger was coming from him as I watched carefully. He was holding a regular knife. “Where is Crowley?” He asked again. 

“Eat me.” 

Sam nodded and smirked, knowing full well a little more pain might make her talk. “You better answer that.” I said to her indifferently, “he won’t be nice.” 

“Shut up, bitch-“ Sam then plunged the knife into her stomach. 

“One more time! Where is Crowley?!” She moaned in pain as he twisted the knife, his anger finally spilling out. 

“Sam!” 

“Where’s my brother?” 

“I don’t know!” The demon shouted. 

“Then you're going to call somebody who does!” He sliced her the side neck and grabbed a cup to catch the blood. 

“Sam.” I said moving closer, knowing he was teetering on the edge. 

“No one knows! They won't answer!” The demon pleaded with him, then looked at me with pure fear. 

“Make the call!” Sam shouted. 

“We’re under orders!” 

“Make the call!” 

“Sam!” 

“Please!” She said, crying out. 

Sam dropped the cup and grabbed her face. “Where's My Brother?!” 

I ran up to him and grabbed him by the shirt, trying to have him back off. “Sam! Sam? Please! Sweetie back off. Come on. Sam?” He finally looked down at me, and his anger started to fade. “Take a break. I’ll take care of her, but we’re done.” 

His eyes softened and he started to take deep breaths. Sam nodded then walked off. I turned to the demon who was crying. “What are you gonna do to me?” She asked. 

I just frowned, and started an exorcism. 

…

Four Weeks Later

  
  
  


We were both still struggling with trying to find Dean, or at least his body. We were coming to the conclusion that his body may had been possessed. But still, the note Dean had left us, in his hand writing, told my gut otherwise. So I was going through every book we had on Demonic Possession and taking notes in my journal. Sam was on the phone with his friend Mike on speaker, so I listened quietly. “Right, right; so, no noticeable crop failures, no mass cattle deaths, nothing?” 

“No, nothing on the radar, nothing on the scope. I'd say that's a good thing.” 

A small wave of defeat came from Sam, but he said, “No...yeah-yeah-yeah, you're right. I hear you, Mike. Thanks. That is a good thing. Alright, well keep me posted if anything does pop up.” 

“Alright. Watch yourself, Sam. And your girl.” 

“I will. You got it. Thanks.” He hung up. 

After a moment, I said, “we’ll find him. We just gotta keep digging.” 

Sam nodded and we proceeded to work. From researching about demons to looking for any and all demon related cases that could point us in the right direction. 

Late into the night, Sam went off to take a break from working. But after a decent amount of time, and a wave of despair, I went off to find him. Only to see him staring at the note Dean had left in his room. I leaned against the doorway as Sam thought about it more. “You keep staring at it, the words won’t change.” I said gently, telling him that I was there. 

He looked up at me and nodded, putting the note back. “Let’s get back to work.” 

I nodded and we went back to the library together. Another hour or so later we both went to bed, in my room that night, and tried to get some sleep. 

Well, at least Sam got some. I had another restless night of nightmares, and around five in the morning, I gave up sleeping all together. I got out of bed and dressed for the day, then went to the kitchen. 

Working on breakfast and some coffee, Sam wasn’t far behind me, as he was always an early riser. He brought his laptop with him and worked as I finished breakfast and began eating. 

“Hey, I think I found something.” Sam said with a small wave of excitement. He then grabbed his cell to call Cas. 

“Sam. Hello.” 

“Hey Cas.” I said quickly. 

Then Sam told him, “I think I might have found something.” 

“Oh good, good.” Cas then started coughing on the other line a bit. 

“Cas?” I said worried, “you there?” 

He said while still coughing, “It's okay, I'm...uh...I'm okay. Go...go on.” 

Sam and I exchanged a worried look before he said, “Alright, get this. A ‘John Doe’ who was murdered in Wisconsin a week ago turns out to be this guy named Drew Nealy who went missing from religious order in Northern Ohio...okay?” 

“Yeah?” Cas said between coughing. 

“Now, Drew Nealy had been missing for 3 years. Killed his wife, his kids...just disappeared. I know it's thin, but...if this guy was possessed…” 

“That would make him the first…” Cas then went into another coughing fit. 

“The first lead, the first anything we've seen in…” Sam’s hope was cut off by the incessant coughing on Cas’s side. I grew worried. 

“Sorry.” 

“Actually...you know what...now that I'm looking at this more I think I uh...I think I jumped the gun here, buddy.” I furrowed my eyebrows a bit, then saw what Sam was doing as he lied. 

“No, Sam, you said it was something.” 

“Yeah...uh...it's...it's not. I was wrong, sorry.” 

“Yeah, I looked at it too...nothing there.” I added. 

“I can help.” Cas said firmly. 

“Cas...we tried that.” Sam said gently. 

“Sam...you can't blame what that demon did to your shoulder on me; you were out of…

“I'm not, I'm not blaming anything on you.” Sam told him firmly. “What happened, happened, and...you need to be worrying about yourself. I really shouldn't have bothered you.” 

“You should be resting, Cas.” I said to him, “we’ll figure it out.” 

“How are you, Sam?” I looked up at him as Cas asked the question. 

“Good. I'm alright. I'm just...tired, you know. Be better when we get him back...after...after I kick his butt.” We both chuckled a bit. 

“You me and both mister.” I joked. 

“I miss him.” Cas said a little wistfully. 

“We do too.” 

“Why would he just disappear?” 

“Who says he had a choice?” Sam asked. 

“Well then, who wrote the note? If there's any chance...any chance at all that Dean is still…” 

“Still...even remotely Dean?” 

I sighed. “Let’s just find the guy, worry about what happened later okay? Bye Cas.” Sam then hung up the phone. “Wanna check this out?” 

“Yeah, let’s go.” 

…

The next day, we walked into the police station that was investigating the case involving the possessed man in our Fed threads. The officer escorting us in said, “Appreciate you coming down, agents. But I'm afraid you may have just cost Uncle Sam a tank of gas.” 

“Oh, why’s that?” Sam asked him. 

“You came up here to investigate Drew Neely's murder, right?” 

“Right.” I replied. 

“Problem is, no one's certain it was a murder at all.” 

“Okay, then what are we dealing with here?” Sam asked with confusion, “A suicide?” 

He sat down to turn on his computer. “Self-defense, more likely. Uh, the surveillance footage was corrupted. Our techies finally managed to clean up the file. Hold on a sec now…” He turned it on to show a gas station store, only for us to see Dean reading a magazine. “That John Doe right there is the one you want to keep your eye on.” 

“Son of a bitch.” Sam muttered to himself as shock washed over the two of us. 

“Watch.” So we did for thirty seconds then he said, “Okay, now, porn guy's just minding his own business. And there's Drew Neely. See the knife?” 

“Yeah.” 

“That's intent right there. Now watch this.” Drew Neely then jumped Dean and he quickly killed the guy with the First Blade. It made my stomach churn. “Looks like a cutlass or something. I don't know what the hell this is. Problem is, we don't know if this guy's a hero or a psychopath.” The officer then stopped the tape with a close up of Dean. “That's the image that's getting uploaded to the wires.” 

I looked over to Sam who was wafting off shock and a bit of hope. “Detective, do you mind if we, uh, take another look at this?” I asked. 

“Knock yourselves out. I'll be back in a few.” He then left us. 

“Alright.” Sam said, finding his voice and we rewound the tape. A sudden wave of determination came from him as we rewatched it slowly. It was blink and you’ll miss it, but anger came from both of us as we saw Dean’s eyes turn black. 

“Sam?” Suddenly worried for him, “are you okay?” 

“Yeah...yeah. Let’s find the son of a bitch.” We got the tapes and information from the locals, then headed off to the Gas station where Dean was last seen. Thankfully, the cashier who was working that day was working there again. 

We began questioning him, who’s name tag told us his name was Mickey, and was wafting off a bit of fear and excitement. “Oh, yeah. Porn guy was an animal. Bro came at him like, ‘what?!’ and he was all like, ‘wh-a-a-at?’ ‘Say my name! Say my name! Say my name.’ And there was a _lot_ of blood.” 

We stood there kind of awkwardly. “Right. Um...When the guy, uh—when—‘Porn guy’ came in, did he...say anything?” Sam asked. 

“‘W-where’s the porn.’” 

“That's all he said? Did he buy anything? Did he-did he use a credit card? Nothing?” Sam started to wave off anxiety and anger, which didn’t really fall on the kid as he just stared. “So some guy comes in, kills another guy in your store on your watch, and you just—you what? Just keep on keepin' on?” 

“You mean when porn guy was stabbing the other guy to death 10 feet in front of me, and I was having a total code-brown moment in my favorite freakin' pants because I thought I was next, did I conduct a field interview?...No.” 

“Sorry.” I muttered dryly. Then the kid pulled a phone from behind the counter. 

“Oh, hey. Uh, can you do me a solid? Found this wedged under the T.P. I _think_ it's the dead guy's phone, and, uh, if you're heading back to the station…” 

I smiled a bit and took it. “Thanks.” 

Sam and I then quickly left the store and stood next to the Impala. We started looking through the phone, damn demon didn't put a passcode on it to our fortune and found a few text messages mentioning Dean. Sam then called the number on speaker. “You’re dead.” Crowley was on the other end. Waves of hope and anger came from Sam and I. 

“Nope. Just using a dead man's phone.” Sam replied. 

“Moose. Took you long enough. Your brother and I were beginning to wonder if you'd hit another dog. You know?” I rolled my eyes at that. 

Grief and anger came from Sam. “My brother is dead, Crowley. I know you have some freaking demon parading around in his meatsuit, and trust me, you are gonna pay for that.” 

“Where is he Crowley?” I asked angrily. 

“Darling...Moose. Moose. I'm afraid you haven't allowed yourselves to dream quite big enough here. Your brother is very much alive, courtesy of the mark. And the only demonized soul inside of Dean is his and his alone. Wee bit more twisted, a little more mangled beyond human recognition, but, I can assure you, all his. There, now. Feel better?” 

“And the, uh, Abaddon supporters you've been sending to kill my brother, how does Dean feel about _that_ double-cross?” Sam asked. 

“If that's what you think is happening, then you're more out of your depths than I thought.” 

Sam’s anger spilled over again, “I don't know how you did this, what kind of...Black-magic stunt you pulled, but hear me—I will save my brother or die trying.” 

“You know what tickles me about all this? It's what's really eating you up. You don't care that he's a demon. Heck, you've been a demon. We've all been demons. No, it's that he's with me and he's having the time of his life. You can't stand the fact that he's mine.” 

I gritted my teeth. “He’s not your pet.” I told him. 

“My pet? He's my best friend, my partner in crime. They'll write songs about us, graphic novels. ‘The Misadventures of Growley and Squirrel.’ Dean Winchester completes me, and that's what makes you lose your chickens.” 

Sam growled into the phone, “I am going to find you, I am going to save my brother, and then I'm going to kill you dead.” 

“Well, that's the operative phrase, isn't it? ‘Find you.’ Good luck with that.” 

Crowley hung up. I let out a long breath. “Did it track the call?” I asked Sam. 

He placed the phone on the hood of our rented car, right next to his. “Yep. Little Town in North Dakota.” He tapped on the location. 

“The Black Spur? Crowley’s been caught dead-ish, in a place that’s probably a hole?” I smirked, “Let’s go get ‘em.” 

…

I was driving. Sam and I were in our regular clothes and headed towards North Dakota. He had been anxious the whole ride over. I finally had enough of it. “Are we going to talk about it?” 

“About what?” 

“The fact that Dean might be-“ I stopped myself from saying it, making my own stomach churn. 

He stared out into the road. “I don’t think there is a ‘might’ anymore. If we get to him...we can save him.” 

I nodded thinking back to the ritual. “I hope so. Cause I know I miss him—and I really do I miss him, but not as much as you do.” 

Sam and I shared a look for a moment, and he reached out with his good hand to grasp mine. For once, there was actual hope between us. I only prayed it would be enough to get us through, to who I can’t really say. 

Then the car began to sputter. “The hell?” I said as looked at the speedometer. “It’s dying.” 

“Pullover.” I did as Sam asked and got on the side of the road. He then moved to the door. 

“I can get out, kinda hard to open a hood with one hand.” 

“Just pop the hood.” He said then closed the door. 

“Stubborn.” I muttered then hit the latch for it. I watched him through the windshield try to open it, but it was too much. I chuckle to myself then got out. As I approached Sam, another car pulled over behind us. 

A man with a buzz cut got out of his car as I opened the hood myself. “Hey.” Sam called out. 

“Need some help?” He asked with a smile. Anticipation and determination came from him for a few moments. 

Sam and I exchanged a look, then he said, “Uh...Yeah. I-I think so. It just died on us.” 

“Out here?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Your ride really has it out for you, huh?” 

“I guess so,” I said as I scrutinized the guy, unsure if we could trust him. 

“Give you a hand with that?” He asked me to take a look. 

“Yeah, I’d appreciate it. Thanks. My mechanic is kinda MIA.” I said to lighten the mood. 

The guy looked over as I stepped aside. “Ah...These new cars and their computerized brains, huh? One zero out of place, and the whole thing just goes kaput. Well, right there. There's your problem.” He pointed at a part of the engine. It was a random piece of plastic that had some buttons on it or whatever. 

“What the hell is that?” Sam asked. 

A wave of excitement came from the guy as he said, pulling a small remote from his pocket. “Well, that's a kill switch. This here is the remote.” 

“Sam!” I said as he tried to defend himself, but was caught on his right arm with the damn sling. The stranger then punched him out cold. I pulled my gun from my waist band and trained it on the guy’s back in front of me. 

“Guessing he’s a righty.” 

“Don’t move!” I ordered. “Who are you?!” 

My gun was too close to his back as he quickly turned around and disarmed me. He then gave me a matching punch to the jaw and sent me to the ground. As I went unconscious he said, “smart girl.” Then everything went black. 

…

I woke up after a bag was lifted off my head. Looking around, my vision blurred a moment before seeing the strange man in front of me shove Sam into a chair and zip tie him to it. “Alright, girly. You’re awake,” he said as he moved towards Sam, who also had a black bag over his head and his legs zip tied to a chair. 

I tried to move, but realized that I was bound with my hands above my head on some piece of farming equipment. My heart rate began to climb at the realization of what had happened. 

“Okay.” The man said, then pulled off the bag from Sam’s head. “Home, sweet home.” Sam looked around, wafting off anxiety, especially when he saw me. His eyes were wide, but began to calm even with the blood trickling from his nose. “There you go. You good, partner? How's that chicken wing?” 

“Who are you?” Sam asked him. He chuckled at that.

“First time I broke my arm, my older brother, Davey, had me riding on the handles of his three-speed.” Waves of nostalgia came off him as he walked around and rummaged around his bag at a nearby table. “Decided to pop us a wheelie, look real fancy for all the little pretties outside the DQ. Well, we were looking mighty good for a little bit. And then, ‘whoop’—ass end over teakettle, boy. Hurt like a son of a bitch.” As he spoke, I fought my binds above my head, my breathing growing more erratic. “You're Sam Winchester. I think we both can agree on that. And your older brother, Dean, well...He and I, we go way back.” 

“You’re a hunter?” I asked, despite my anxiety growing faster and stronger, trying to distract myself from the flooding memories. 

“Sure. Yeah, we can go with that. Hunting your brother counts, right?” So he wasn’t. 

“I wouldn’t do that.” Sam said. I had to give him that, I wouldn’t sick demonic Dean, powered by the mark, on anyone. Even on this prick. 

“Yeah?” 

“Trust me. Look, buddy, I-I don't know who you are, alright? I don't know what you want or what my brother did, but if you got any sense, I suggest you turn tail and run back to that army recruiting ad that spit you out in the first place. He's a monster.” 

A wave of anger and grief came from him. Old grief. “Well, he was. Yeah, he was...Many, many moons ago. But now he's prey. And I'm the monster now.” I couldn’t take it anymore. I started to really fight the binds, not caring that my wrists were getting cut by the plastic. The man noticed too. “Settle down.” 

“I can’t...I can’t...I...can’t...breathe.” I was now hyperventilating. Flashes of the pain and torture I endured all came back to me in my mind. The man wasn’t a man anymore. No, he was the angel who sliced into me. He was Metatron, who broke my bones with the snap of his fingers. My mind brought back the slicing and sticking. The occasional slap. I couldn’t take it. “I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe.” I repeated over and over again through it all. 

Sam tried calling my name. “Hey. Look at me! Look at me!” He turned to the man, who was now wafting off panic and anger. “Cut her down! Can’t you see she’s having a panic attack?” 

In an instant, the guy decided enough. He came over and took out a pocket knife. “I can’t...I can’t breathe.” I said, as he cut the ties and I fell to my knees. 

“Hey. Hey!” He held me up by the shoulders. “Breathe alright. Breathe, or I’ll knock you out again.” I pushed him off me and crawled backwards until I hit the wall. 

Sam called my name then. “Baby. Baby, breathe. Please. Breathe for me. In and out. In and out.” I put all my focus on that. Breathing in as large breaths as I could. I pressed my hands to my face, finally feeling the tears that had been streaming down my face. I was shaking too,

“You’ve been through some shit haven’t you?” The man asked. I barely acknowledged the question. “Don’t leave that spot? You hear me? Or I’ll kill you both.” 

I nodded silently, looking up at Sam, who was wafting off worry and fear now. Still I focused on breathing. The man was quiet for a few moments, then began waving off anticipation again. He went to the duffle bag from our car. He pulled out Sam’s cell phone. 

Sam and I exchanged a look, knowing full well to stay quiet. I could faintly hear the other side as the guy called someone. “I left you an open tab at the bar. Knock yourself out.” I recognized the voice. It was Dean. Sam heard it too, who waved off grief and sadness, knowing Dean wasn’t himself. It broke both of our hearts. 

“Well, hell, I just may take you up on that.” The man replied. He was putting up a light front, wanting full well to seem terrifying. _Is he in for a surprise?_

“And who is this?” 

“Me? Well, I'm karma, brother.” 

“On my brother’s phone?” 

“On your brother’s phone?” 

“Is he dead?” 

“No. Not yet. And as long as you show up where I tell you to show up, your brother and his girlfriend will be just fine.” 

“And how do I know they’re still alive?” 

The guy held the phone out to Sam. “Speak.” Sam refused to, so the man punched him in the face. 

“Sam!” I shouted in fear. Sam then groaned out, confirming that we both were alive for Dean. 

“Proof of life.” The man said with a wave of smugness. 

“Dean!” Sam shouted for him. 

“Got a pen?” 

“No, you listen to me.” Dean said, “There's no trade. There's no meet-up. There's no nothing—except the 100% guarantee that, somewhere down the road, I will find you, and I will kill you.” 

“Well, that'll be a cold comfort to your dead brother.” 

“I told them to let me go. So whatever jam they’re in now, that is their problem.” Sam and I exchanged another look. 

“Yeah, well, I'll be sure to pass that on to him as I'm slitting his throat.” I gritted my teeth, suddenly very angry and protective of Sam. 

“Yeah, you do that, 'cause he knows me. And he knows damn sure that if I am one thing, I am a man of my word.” Dean hung up on the man. He wafted off shock. We all did. Sam and I were truly on our own now.   
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up next, Reichenbach, a fun episode with Deanmon!


	2. Reichenbach

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The race is on to find Dean as Sam and I grapple with the fact that he has turned into a Demon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all! New chapter yay! Love this one cause it features Demon!Dean. Enjoy!

_“We are our choices.”_ —J.P. Sartre 

  
  
  


Our captor left me in my spot on the floor covered in hay, but he did bind my wrists again. Even after my panic attack, he didn’t trust me to be free enough. Morning light was beginning to fill the barn. 

I looked up at him, as he remained silent since he had gotten off the phone with Dean. “Why are you doing this?” I asked him. “What did Dean do to you that you want to kill him? Kidnap two people for it?” The man sighed. Then he had a wave of old grief. “He took someone from you? Didn’t he?” 

The man looked at me with a bit of wonder and a wave of curiosity. “How the hell do you know that?” He asked with the edge of threat in his voice. 

Sam had a wave of protectiveness as we shared a look. “I know the look...this is a revenge mission? Isn’t it?” I asked, trying my best to stay calm. 

He chuckled darkly. “June twenty first, oh-three. I woke up to somebody in my house. I was just a kid...I ran downstairs looking for my dad. Thinking he would protect me...only to find him dead.” The grief was overwhelming, as well as the anger. “I slipped. I slipped when I stepped in the blood when I found him. But I was too late. He was gone. And I look up to see this young man. Holding a bloody knife. I’ll never forget it. I’ll never...forget his eyes.” He turned back to Sam. “And that was the night that Dean Winchester murdered my father. And that's...that's why he's gonna die.” 

“I’m sorry.” Sam told him. 

“I'm not looking for your sympathy, Sammy. I'm looking for your brother. So, why don't you tell me where Dean-o is, and then I'll let you and your girlfriend go.” 

“That’s not gonna happen.” 

A small wave of confusion and anger came from him. “Really? Now, you know your brother gave me the, uh, green light to put one between your eyes, right?” 

Sam was conflicted, but we both knew he had to tell the guy the truth. “Dean...Dean isn't Dean right now. Now, look, I don't know who you are-“

“Name’s Cole. Listen, Sam...Every night...since I was 13 years old...Every night, I close my eyes and all I can see is your brother and all that blood...and my daddy. Now...I know Dean's family and all, but he gave you up. And you have no reason to protect him—none. So help me. Please.” 

“Look, I'm sorry about your dad. We both are.” I said to him, pleaded with him. “Whatever happened...Dean had a reason. I don't know how to tell you this. There are monsters out there.” 

Old anger and trauma came from him then, “You don't think I know that? I did two tours in Iraq. Special Ops, Darfur...The Congo. I've seen suicide bombers and child soldiers so hopped up on speed that they could barely talk! Oh, but they could sure as hell shoot an A.K.” 

“Not that kind of monster.” Sam told him. 

“Don't tell me about monsters! 'Cause I've met my share.” 

Anger then came from Sam too, “I mean vampires! Alright? Werewolves. Monster...monsters. Look in the bag.” He motioned to the duffle. “Go on. Take a look. It’s right there.” Cole then went up to the bag, first thing he pulled out was the flask of Holy water. 

Disbelief came from him, “I guess even psychos need to hydrate.” 

“It’s holy water.” I said dryly. 

He rolled his eyes. “Holy cow.” He put it down then found something else. “Now what the hell is that?” He pulled out my sword. “You work at the _Medieval Times_ or something?” 

I rolled my eyes. “Look, we’re not a couple of psychos. And we’re not lying.” He put my sword back. 

“Well, you see, that's exactly what a psycho liar would say, so...See my dilemma?” He then went into his own backpack on the table. He pulled out a small, ball peen hammer. Sam and I both started to wave off panic. “I guess...We are just gonna have to do this the other way.” 

Sam had a wave of protectiveness. “You touch her I swear to god-“ 

“I’m not touching her.” Cole replied with a wave of anger, coming closer to Sam. “I’m not that sick...but you. You, I’ll go a few rounds with.” 

“Please.” I said, but he ignored me. Cole threw Sam a punch in the face. “Stop it! I swear, stop it!” 

“Where's Dean, Sam?” Another punch. “Where is he?” Sam stayed quiet. “Where is he?!” He punched his face again. 

“Stop it!” 

“Shut up!” He turned back to Sam and grabbed his throat. Then punched on his injured shoulder. 

“Sam!” I shouted as he screamed in agony. 

He gasped as he said, “shove it up your ass.” 

“Okay. Okay. Okay, okay. I guess it's time to crank up the volume, then. Huh?” He released him. 

“He’s had enough! Leave him alone.” Cole ignored me as he picked up the hammer again. Then he brought it to Sam. He tapped it on his left knee. “Sam. Sam, look at me.” He did. “Look at me.” He said as he calmed down a little, but he was still shaking in pain as he tried to steel himself. 

“Right there.” Cole said as he got ready to hit him. By some mercy of powers above, Cole’s cell phone began to ring. “Ain’t you lucky, boy?” He pulled it out and said before answering, “don’t move.” He pressed a button and said, “Hey, darlin’. No, I'm good. No, everything's fine. Everything's just fine.” 

He walked outside. “Hey.” Sam whispered and motioned to the floor. Cole’s pocket knife was on the floor. I got up quickly and scrambled for the knife. I opened it and cut Sam’s legs out of the binds. He got up and took the knife, tipping the chair in the process. He cut my binds, and we grabbed the duffle. 

We ran out of that barn so fast it wasn’t even funny. I carried the bag as we walked down the road, looking for any civilization and praying that Cole wouldn’t catch up with us. “Are you okay?” I asked Sam. 

“I’m good. I’m good. Glad we’re out of there.” 

“He almost broke your kneecaps Sam. Literally.” 

“Had worse,” He said darkly. “Are you okay?” 

I shook my head. “Been better. I didn’t anticipate getting a panic attack. Then again, nothing is a trigger quite like getting strung up the same way you were initially tortured.” 

Sam looked down at me with a wave of worry. I had barely told him the basics of what happened to me. “You were suspended like that? For twenty four hours?” 

I huffed and kept moving. “We need to get a hold of Cas.” 

Sam then took out his phone and called him on speaker as we walked further. “Sam.” Cas answered. 

“You need to get to Beulah, North Dakota—now.. 

“I do?” 

“Yes. Crowley and Dean were there.” I told him. “We got to pick up their trail.” 

“Good, Great.” 

We stopped walking a moment. Sam and I exchanged a look, knowing full well we had to break the news. “Yeah, um...not so much.” He said. “Cas...Dean's a demon.” 

There was a long pause, if I knew the angel well enough, I knew he was pissed. “Dean’s a demon? How?” 

“The Mark. I-I guess it-it just messed him up. We don't know.” 

“That is a vast understatement.” 

“Right.” I said, “Now, Cas, listen. I know you're not feeling so hot, but this is kind of an ‘all hands on deck’ situation here, so…” 

“So...I’ll meet you there.” 

“Yeah.” We hung up then saw a truck up ahead next to an abandoned looking house. “Think we can not wire that?” I asked him. He smirked a little and nodded. 

…

We managed to get the truck to work and started driving. Sam drove until we found our car again. He didn’t even get out as I jumped from the truck and grabbed out bags. We would have abandoned it all if not for leaving his wallet and laptop. Which we needed both to track down Dean. Thankfully, as the sunset, Cole was nowhere to be seen and I took our possessions back in ten seconds flat. 

Sam sped off. After a stop at a gas station to fuel up, we blew through the next two towns, just to try to keep Cole off our trail. It was almost midnight when we stopped for the night. A motel let us rest there, after slipping the clerk a fifty, and we crashed. Course I bolted the door shut, and Sam kept a loaded gun under his pillow. But for the moment we were safe. 

I collapsed on the bed, without taking off my outer layers or even my shoes, exhausted. Sam had pulled out his laptop and placed it at the table to charge. He had begun to wave off worry again. “Quit worrying about me.” I said with my eyes closed. “I’m fine.” 

“Sure you are.” Sam said dryly. He threw off his shoes and asked, “can I—can I have some help with this?” He still had some trouble with the straps of the sling, despite wearing it for how long? And I knew what Cole had done to it meant he would be in the damned thing longer. 

I got up from the bed and had him sit down. I unstrapped it for him and helped him out of his flannel to sleep. I then checked it out. There was some bruising, but nothing seemed to be broken again. Once I knew that was okay, and re-doing the straps of his sling, I pressed a hand gently to his cheek. “I’m so tired, Sam.” 

“I know.” He said, gently. “We’ll get some sleep.” 

“No.” I shook my head. “I’m tired of all of it. Of the memories. The triggers. The night terrors. I’m so tired of it.” I fought the tears that brimmed my eyes. 

Sam stood up to his full height and pulled me into a hug. I avoided his slinged arm as best as I could as I wrapped my arms around his middle. “It gets better. I promise sweetheart. I promise.” 

“How?” 

“It does. You just have to keep fighting…” We fell into a quiet. I was truly tired of the effects of my trauma. I was defeated by the shear amount of time it had taken to even start talking about it, let alone trying to heal all of my mental wounds of those damned twenty four hours of being Metatron’s prisoner. 

But I took Sam’s words to heart. I had to keep fighting. I knew that. I just wasn’t sure how. 

…

The next morning, Sam and I headed out after finding a report of an assault of a security guard at a strip club in the next town over. We got into our Fed suits and went straight there to interview the guy. The guy was huge, but he had a black eye and an arm in a sling too. 

We showed a picture of Dean to the guard and he said, “Hmm. That's the guy. I called 911, but he was gone before they showed up. That dude get to you, too?” 

Sam looked down at his arm and said, “Oh, uh, no. This is, uh, just a...hunting accident.” 

“Damn.” 

I then said, and pulled out a business card, “Yeah. Would you do us a favor? If you do see him again, will you give us a call?” 

“Yeah. You bet.” 

“Thanks.” Sam replied then we went back to the truck. I got in the driver’s seat. “He has to be nearby.” 

I started the car up and pulled out. “We’ll find him. And hopefully before that prick does and gets himself killed.” I drove us to a motel to get a home base going and some WiFi. Hopefully we were close, and we needed to be ready whenever. 

After getting changed out of our Fed suits, a murder came across our police radio. A man was mysteriously stabbed to death in his car from across the street of his ex-wife’s house. Thought it was strange, but was worth looking into. So we grabbed our things and moved. 

As Sam and I were about to leave. We heard a familiar voice, “Hello, Bullwinkle. Darling. You miss me?” We both turned to see Crowley. 

“So much.” I said dryly as Sam took out the demon knife from his belt. 

“You're here for Dean. I'm here to give him to you.” 

Waves of surprise came from both of us. “What?” Sam asked. 

“The little prat's bad for business. He's...uncontrollable. Must be the Mark. Anyway, Dean's your problem now—again, forever.”

Sam and I exchanged a look as he said, “Then where is he?” desperately. 

“First, there's the small matter of my finder's fee.” 

“Let me guess,” I said angrily, “we don’t kill you.” 

Crowley smiled, “you were always the smart one.” 

“Sure but, you're just also predictable.” 

“Touché...And, I want the first blade. You don’t want your brother’s hands on that thing as much as I do. Now...do we have a deal?”

Sam and I exchanged a look. I nodded, silently telling him Crowley wasn’t lying and that we could do this. “Alright, now where is he?” 

Crowley pointed us towards a bar on the other side of town. At the time of day it should be deserted, and Crowley’s demons watching the place would make sure of it. As we drove there, I asked Sam. “Are you ready for this? Ready to finally get him back?” 

“Yes. More than anything.” 

“Are you ready to see what he’s become? Cause I know I’m not…” 

Sam just pressed on the gas even more, knowing full well he wasn’t either. But we both knew that we had to do this. We had to get Dean back.

We parked in front of the bar. It was a dump to be honest. An old dive that would get its regulars at best. As soon as I got out and strapped on my sword to my belt, I felt him. I felt Dean, but not the Dean I knew. 

“Dear God…” I said in shock. 

“What?” 

“Dean...he’s so different. I mean that determination and anger that was always there...it’s stronger, but...the best parts of him. They're gone.” I looked up at Sam worriedly. “He feels like Abaddon.”

Sam swallowed a bit and nodded. “Let’s get him back.” So, we went inside. There were only two people there. A bartender sitting behind the counter, and Dean sitting at a piano across the room. His anger and power wafted off him so much it was almost blinding. 

“Hiya, Sam.” He said without even looking up at us. He out the first blade on top of the piano. And looked at us with anticipation. “Hey, Harv, why don't you go grab a smoke?” The bartender then left with a small wave of fear. I kept a neutral face, trying not to show my worry and shock of seeing Dean the first time as he was. “Who winged you?” He asked Sam. 

“Does it matter?” Sam asked him. 

“Not really. I told you to let me go. Both of you.” 

“You know we can't do that.” I said firmly, “By the way, your pal Crowley...Sold you out.” 

“Sounds like him.” He got up with the blade, walking towards the bar.

Sam then said with a wave of determination, “Dean, hold on a second. You don't have to do this. Look, we know how to cure demons. You remember that?” 

“Little Latin, lot of blood. It rings a bell.” Anger came from him again, “Did you ever stop to think that if I wanted to be cured, I wouldn't have bailed?!” 

“That was Crowley.” 

Dean smiled darkly. “It really wasn’t.” He poured another glass of whiskey. 

“It doesn't matter, alright? 'Cause whatever went down, whatever happened, we will fix it.” 

“Will we? 'Cause right now, I'm doing all I can not to come over there and rip your throats out...with my teeth.” How casually he said that, made my stomach churn, and my hand that rested on the hilt of my sword tighten. “I'm giving you a chance, Sam. You should take it.” 

“We’re gonna have to pass.” I said bravely. 

“Well, I'm not walking out that door with you. I'm just not. So, what are you gonna do? Are you gonna kill me? With that pretty sword, sweetheart?” 

“No.” 

“Why? You don't know what I've done. I might have it coming.” 

“Well, I don't care.” Sam said with love and hope coming from him. “Because you are my brother. And I'm here to take you home.” 

Amusement came from Dean. “Hmm.” He began to mock us. “‘You’re my brother, and I’m here to take you home.’ Yeah, what is this, a Lifetime movie? Huh? With your puppy-dog eyes?” He laughed at us then. His laughing made me miss the old Dean. “Oh, thanks, Sammy. I needed that.” Sam then took out the demon cuffs. “You really think those are gonna work?” 

“There’s one way to find out.” I said simply. The sound of glass breaking and a can hitting the floor entered my ears. And smoke started pouring out of it. It became harder to breathe as Sam and I both started to cough from the tear gas. The burning of my eyes made it hard to see. 

Sam grabbed my arm and we exited the bar through the back door. Dean was unbothered as he followed us, curious at what was happening. Just as we got to clean air, Sam was punched out again and crumbled to the floor. I turned just in time to see Cole give me the same treatment. 

I wasn’t all the way knocked out as I laid there next to the Winchester. As my head pounded and I went to Sam, and looked up to see Dean appear from the door right behind Cole. He pulled his gun out on him. “Wow. It’s really you.” Both waved off anticipation. 

“We met?” Dean asked, genuinely confused at that man. 

“Talked on the phone.” 

“Right. Right.” A wave of amusement came from Dean as he joked darkly, “You're the guy who's supposed to put a bullet in Sammy's brain. Did you miss?” 

“Well, I had a better idea.” He moved closer to Dean, “I figure if I let your bro escape, he'd go running to you, and all I had to do was just tag along. And now here we are, finally—Dean Winchester.” 

“Great. A groupie.” They began to circle eachother. 

“You remember me?” 

“Yeah, yeah. You're that guy from that thing.” I rolled my eyes at that. 

Cole then had a small wave of disappointment. “Nyack, New York, June 21st, 2003.” 

“That supposed to ring a bell?” Dean said truthfully, but also with indifference. 

“It was the night you gutted and murdered a man by the name of Edward Trenton. He was my father.” A small wave of grief came over him. 

“Okay.” 

Confusion and anger came from Cole now. “‘Okay?’” 

“Well, hey, I'm not saying I didn't slice and dice your old man. I'm just saying that he wasn't the first, and he certainly wasn't the last, and they all just kind of get blended up.” 

“I saw you...That night...After. You let me live. That was dumb—real dumb. I spent half my life training for this moment. I've played out this fight a thousand times in my mind. And I know all about you, Dean-o. And you're good. Oh, you're real good. But, you see, I'm better.” 

“Prove it. Take a shot.” 

“Now, that's not payback.” I scoffed a little as I watched him holster his gun and draw a knife. “This is payback.” I then tried to get Sam awake, trying to stop this. 

Cole leaped at Dean who fended off his attack. They spared a few moments before Dean easily pulled the gun from Cole’s holster and dropped the clip. He emptied the chamber easily as he said, “You know...And I'm just spitballing here, but, uh, maybe...you are not as good as you think you are.” 

In the short spurt of fighting, Cole lost his knife, so he went into a stance with both of his fists ready to fight him. “Oh. You know Kung Fu?” Dean asked mockingly. 

“Sam come on, get up.” I whispered. 

“I know everything.” Cole said with waves of determination. 

“Well, come on.” Dean said, then Cole went at him. 

“The cuffs. Wait here they’re back inside.” Sam said lowly, then ducked back into the building. I hugged the wall of the place. Staying out of the way of the two men fighting, forgetting I was even there. Dean then got Cole on the ground. 

“What did you think was gonna happen, huh?” he circled the man as Cole tried to gather himself again. “You just stroll up here and say ‘my name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die,’ And I'd just roll over? Well, that's just—it makes me sad.” As Dean leaned over him mockingly, Cole pulled out another knife and slashed his face. In response, Dean quickly grabbed Cole’s throat. “You have no idea what you walked into here, do you? None.” 

Shock came over Cole. “What are you?” 

“I'm a demon.” Dean then flashed his black eyes. 

Dean threw him back and took out the First Blade and held it to Cole’s throat. Sam returned and we rushed at them. 

“Do it!” Cole shouted as we got to our feet. “You said if you saw me, you would kill me, so do it!”

“I guess I changed my mind.” Dean then stepped back just in time for me to throw my flask of Holy water on him. 

Sam rushed at Dean as he screamed and snapped on the cuffs. “Stop. It’s over! It’s over.” Pure waves of anger came from Dean as he stared daggers at us. But he was completely helpless. I bent down and picked up the first blade from the ground. 

We left the back lot and quickly found the Impala. After taking the keys from Dean’s pocket, we locked him in the backseat, cuffing him to the door so he wouldn’t be able to try anything. Crowley then quickly found us. 

“A pleasure doing business.” He said with waves of relief. 

“What are you gonna do with it?” I asked. 

“Toss it into a volcano, leave it on the Moon. I'll get creative. Believe me, I don't want Dean getting his hands on the precious any more than you do. Your brother knows I ratted. He tends to hold a grudge. I don't want to get...Boned.” 

I rolled my eyes as I handed it to him. Sam then said, “This doesn't make us square. If I see you again-“ 

“Oh, stop it, Samantha. No one likes a tease.” Sam then went to the passenger side of the car and I paused before I got in the driver’s seat. 

“Hey, Crowley. Get Hell straightened out, alright? I’m sick of cleaning up your messes.” 

He chuckled a bit. “Until we meet again, my dear.” 

“I’m not your dear.” I said then climbed in. Crowley disappeared before I even started the car. Sam kept the demon knife in his lap as we drove away from that town and straight for home. After a few hours, it was dark. 

We all were in thought for the drive, when Sam said, “This thing is filthy.” 

“It’s just a car, Sam.” Dean said. 

My eyes grew wide at that. “‘It’s just a...car?” I said. “Oh my god.” 

“Wow. You really have gone dark.” Sam told him, both of us shocked. 

“You have no idea.” 

“You know what, Dean?” Sam said when he had enough, “I saw what happened back there. You could have killed that guy, and you didn't. You took mercy on him.” 

“You call that mercy? Imagine you spend your whole life hunting down the guy that knifed your father. When you finally find him...He whips you like a dog.” I stared at Dean a moment through the rear view mirror. “How do you think that feels? That kid's gonna spend his whole life knowing that he had his shot and that he couldn't beat me. That ain't mercy. That's the worst thing I could have done to him. And what I'm gonna do to you, Sammy. Both of you...Well, that ain't gonna be mercy, either.” 

I sped up a little, knowing full well that every word that came out of Dean’s mouth was the truth. “Yeah, keep telling yourself that.” I said dryly. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up next, Soul Survivor. Updating real soon!


	3. Soul Survivor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and I face our worst case scenario, Demon Dean.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all, sorry for the delay with this chapter. A lot has happened in my personal life that sort of taken up so much of my time and energy. But will try to post as much as I can. Still working through the end of ten. I’m at a particular episode that I’m dragging through because of a certain event that I shall not name, cause I absolutely hate it, but ah, must push through for the sake of the canon story line...yeah, when I get to the end of the tv series, I have plans. Big ones. And it sanctions a whole new part of the story that would be worth another season of television. All original story with all* of our favorite characters. For the sake of storytelling, that’s all I’m saying for now. In the meantime, enjoy this new chapter with Demon Dean!—Indigo

_“Love me like the moon intended, all the way through the darkness.”_ —A.J. Lawless 

  
  
  


Dean was locked up in the dungeon. A thing I never thought would ever happen. And yet, here we were. We had him chained up and in a devil’s trap. Powerless. Anger and determination was all I could feel from him. 

Sam and I were gearing up for a long process of trying to cure him. I sat in the war room, sharpening my sword when he came in dressed up in his latest schtick, a doctor to steal some purified blood. “I’ll be back in an hour or so,” he said with worry coming off him. 

“I’ll be here. Sharpening my sword and counting down _hours_ when Cas gets here.” I looked up at him worried myself, then leaned up and kissed him, “just hurry back okay?” 

He smiled a little. “I will.” Sam then went off to get the blood. Sitting there in the war room, with only the subtle hum of machinery as my company, I got back to work on my sword. With practiced hands, I worked the whetstone on the blade. I fell into a rhythm where my hands could work and my mind could wander. 

I worried for Sam and Dean mostly. _Dean turning into a demon was one thing, but when he turns human again, that broken trust has to be addressed._ It seemed, before the mark of Cain truly took hold of him, that Dean was finally earning that trust back. But all that time had passed, and I wasn’t sure. I knew Sam was more determined than ever to save his brother, and Dean has done the same. I just worried on how things were going to return to the way it was, or if it ever would. 

Sam was still dealing with the repercussions of Gadreel, but learning of the angel’s sacrifice to help Castiel seemed to help his opinion of him. When I first learned of the angel’s death, I was truly saddened. Despite all that he had done, Gadreel at one point was my friend, and I actually missed him. I was grateful that he saved us all. Especially for what he did for me. 

Soon enough, Sam returned with the blood. After getting changed into some regular clothes, and putting away my sword in my room, we both entered the dungeon where Dean waited for us. 

As soon as I put the box of blood on the table, he wafted off annoyance. “Really?” He said, 

“For whatever it’s worth, I got your blood type.” Sam told him as we prepared the exorcism. 

“Sam, I know you think you’re gonna try and fix me, but...did it ever occur to you that maybe I don’t want to be fixed? Just let me go live my life. I won’t bother you. What do you care?” 

“What do I care?” Sam repeated. He and I shared a look before I took the holy water into my hand, spilling it to the floor, then began chanting in Latin. Consecrating the ground. 

Anger came from Dean, “You think I’m just gonna sit here like Crowley? Getting all weepy while you shoot me up? Well, screw that. I don’t want this!” 

“Yeah, we pretty much figured that out.” I told him dryly. 

“You two don’t even know if this is gonna work, do you? You know, I got a hell of a lot more running through me than just demon juice.” 

“Mark of Cain, got it.” Sam told him. 

“That’s right.” 

Sam then grabbed one of the prepared syringes, and said, “buckle up.” 

“Sammy...You know I hate shots.” 

“I hate demons.” I then hit Dean in the face with the holy water when I saw his black eyes, and Sam plunged the needle into Dean’s arm. He groaned as the blood went into his veins. “Look, we got a whole bunch more of these to go. You could make it a lot easier on yourself.” 

After he took the needle out, Dean’s eyes widened and he groaned again, the blood taking its effect. We had a long day ahead of us. 

…

After another dose, Dean groaned in pain again. He had been spending almost all of the time trying to convince us to turn back. To let him go. “For all you know, you could be killing me.” He said. 

“Or...you’re just messing with us.” I told him. I sat in front of him in a chair with my arms crossed. 

Sam then said, “Either way, the lore doesn’t say anything about exceptions to the cure.” 

Dean chuckled darkly, “‘The lore.’ Hunters. Men of Letters. What a load of crap it all is!” He paused, trying to egg the two of us on into a verbal argument. “Oh, you got nothing?” 

“You want me to debate you? This isn’t even the real you I’m talking to.” 

“Oh, it’s the real me, alright. The new real me—the me that sees things for what they really are. Winchesters. Do-gooders. Fighting the natural order. Let me tell you something—guys like me, we _are_ the natural order. It’s the way it was set up.” 

“Guys like me...still got to do what we can.” 

“Don’t be so full of yourself, Sammy. ‘Cause, see, from where I’m sitting...There ain’t much difference from what I turned into to what you already are.” 

I raised an eyebrow as Sam began to wave off some anger. “And what exactly is that supposed to mean?” 

“I know what you did when you went looking for me. I know how far you went. Crowley told me all about it. So let me ask you...which one of us is really a monster? Hmm? Starting to come back to you now?” 

Sam waved off some guilt. “Sam?” He avoided my eyes. “What is he talking about?” I asked. 

“Yeah, Sammy? Fess up to your girlfriend. Who you've been seeing on the side?” 

“It’s not like that.” Sam said quickly, waving off guilt. 

I held my palms up. “Just tell me what happened Sam.” Just wondering what the hell it was, there’s wasn’t any anger, just confusion. 

“When...when you went and visited Jody and Alex...I went to a bar. I wanted to find Dean so badly. And I heard this guy, complaining about his wife...I figured-“ 

“He would be perfect bait.” Dean finished for him. 

“You didn’t?” I asked, but didn’t need to. The extra wave of guilt told me it all. 

“I wasn’t going to let it get that far.” 

“You were trying to get a twenty on Crowley and me from any demon you could snag.” Dean said with waves of pride. “But Crowley didn’t want to be found, and no one showed when you summoned. But you found a way, didn’t you, Sam?” 

“I had him summon the demon, and I hid in the bushes. But…” 

“You would have liked to have gotten there before the deal went down, but you didn’t really care about poor ol’ Lester, did you?” 

“Of course I did!” Sam then turned his back on Dean. 

“Sam.” I said, keeping any emotion from my voice. Despite hating what Sam did, I knew it was a mistake. Dean was just stringing him along. _No, not Dean, a demon_ , I told myself. 

“Oh, and so you know, I killed Lester myself. And that wife of his married the tattooed guy.” 

I jumped when Sam slammed his hand on the table. “I never meant-“ 

“Who cares what you meant?! That line that we thought was so clear between us and the things that we hunted, ain’t so clear is it?” I stood and went up to Sam, pressing a gentle hand to his shoulder, trying to show I wasn’t angry. Still, Dean was adding salt to the wounds. “Wow. You might actually be worse than me! I mean, you took a guy at his lowest, used him, and it cost him his life _and_ his soul. Nice work.” 

I then grabbed the next syringe and plunged it quickly into Dean’s neck. I backed off as he screamed in pain. Tossing the empty syringe on the table, Sam and I shared a look before he turned his back on Dean and I. I could sense his regret and shame of it. 

“Let me ask you this, Sammy: If this doesn’t work, we both know what you got to do to me, right? You got the stomach for that, Sam?!” 

“Shut up! You son of a bitch!” I turned to Sam, “come on. You need a break.” 

I ignored Dean’s tauntings and closed the door behind us. Sam’s shame filled the hallway. “Look, I’m sorry I hid it from you, I just couldn’t tell-“ 

“Sam. I’m not angry.” Surprise came from him, “yeah, I’m not happy that you felt that you needed to hide it from me...and for the freakin’ demon of your brother to get it out of you. But...I know you did it out of desperation. It was a mistake. I get it. Hell, I might’ve done something like that myself.” 

“How...how can you forgive me so easily?” 

I smirked a little. “I’m the forgiving type. It’s a blessing and a curse.” I pressed a hand to his face gently. “Just promise me, you won’t hide something from me like that again...I can help. I’m always here to help.” 

He smiled a little at that and calmed down thankfully. After about an hour, we went back in to Dean and gave him another dose. His mocking driving the both of us nuts, but the worst part was the incredible pain Dean was in. More and more doses of blood became more painful for him, and blocking it was barely helping me. 

Sam and I were both growing worried. Still we plowed on. As we waited between doses, Dean decided to take some jabs at me. “Remember the last guy in this chair?” I stared coldly at him. Sam looked to me a moment with some protectiveness, but I shook my head. I wasn’t going to let Dean get to me that easily. “I do.” he said mockingly, “especially the part where I had to knife him. Good old Jackson. The boyfriend you forgot about to jump right into my baby brother’s pants.” 

“Shut up.” I told him simply. 

“He told me a lot of things. I wonder...who’s the better lay?” 

I stood and went to the table. “This isn’t Dean talking,” I told Sam, but mostly for myself. 

“Come on now...you’ve heard all of our dirty laundry. What about your’s princess? What _other_ secrets are you hiding?” 

“Dean.” Sam warned. 

“What? She didn’t bother telling us she had special, emo powers till she let it slip. Didn’t bother telling us she’s part angel.” 

“I didn’t know, jackass.” I growled at him. “You like keeping secrets too. Gadreel for one.” 

“Oh...yeah. Angel boy.” He chuckled darkly. “That was me saving Sam’s ass. I didn’t need you knowin’. Cause you would’ve just blabbed.” 

“Cause I don’t like lying to people.” 

“Cause of an unfair advantage.” I looked up at him with the dirtiest look I could muster, “You know, the whole seeing through any lie thing? It’s annoying. In order to keep something from you, I have to dance around the truth. And the whole, empath thing—it’s the same thing as knowing how someone thinks.” 

I gritted my teeth and stared daggers at him. “It’s not really, but go on.” 

His waves of anticipation told me he liked the challenge. “Knowing what I feel?” He laughed. “You get a glimpse at what is going on with anyone at any given time. I mean, honestly, it’s not normal. You shouldn’t even exist. Part angel? Really? Cause all I see is a fluke. A mistake. You’re a freak of nature.” 

“Look who’s talking,” I said dryly, my anger threatening to bubble to the surface. 

“Hey...I’m happy with the way I am. Are you?” 

There was a quiet. Dean and I were both pissed at eachother, but I wasn’t going to let him egg me on. “You done?” 

“Yeah, I’m done. Done with all of this.” 

“Tough.” I said then walked out of the room. Sam soon enough followed behind me. 

“Are you okay?” He asked. 

I breathed in deeply as I began to pace the hall. “Yeah. Just trying to calm down. He’s lashing out because we’re getting close. I can feel it.” 

“Or we’re getting close to killing him.” I stopped at that. “What if…” 

“He’s dead either way...I mean. If we can’t cure him and he survives...we might have to kill him.” 

Sam shook his head, both of us terrified at that harsh truth. So we went back in on our small sliver of hope. 

…

After administering two more doses, we had grown even more worried. So Sam and I stepped out again to get a hold of Cas. He put it on speaker. “Cas. Hey, are you still coming?” 

“I’m a few hours away. Is the treatment working?” 

“No, not very well. Look, it—it’s not like it was with Crowley. Dean is in pain. I mean, he’s in _bad_ pain. It’s like he’s barely holding on.” 

“Cas…We might be killing him.” I said worriedly. 

“It might be.” 

“So...what? Should we stop?” Sam asked him. 

“And do what? He’s not possessed. Exorcism is out of the question. The ritual of purified blood is the only treatment I know.” 

Panic came over Sam and I, “Cas, did you not hear what I just said? I could be killing my brother.” 

“Sam, he’s not your brother. At least, not now. You have to be prepared for—“ 

“Killing my brother.” 

“I’ll be there as soon as I can.” 

“Yeah, all right. I’ll, uh…I’ll leave the entry unlocked for you. Just…hurry.” 

“Get here soon, okay?” I said then Sam hung up the phone. We both turned to look at Dean. 

Another wave of panic came between us as Dean barely moved. We both rushed back into the dungeon. Sam slapped him across the face, trying to wake him up. “Hey! Hey! Dean!” Come on! Come back.” 

Dean woke a little, and said in a barely audible whisper, “no.” 

“Hey!” I shook him myself. “Come back to me. You there? Hey!” Dean looked up at us. 

“Dean, you okay?” Sam asked. 

“Yeah, if you...consider drowning in your own sweat while your blood boils ‘okay.’” He coughed weakly and Sam and I backed off. 

“Look, we can’t stop doing this.” 

“Sure you can. You just stop! There’s no point in trying to bring your brother back now.” 

A wave of determination came from Sam. “Oh, I will bring him back.” 

“In fact, your uh…guilt-ridden, weight-of-the-world bro has been M.I.A. for quite some time now. But I’m loving the new motto: Lean, mean, Dean.” 

“Right.” 

“You notice I tried to get as far away from you as possible? Away from your _whining,_ your complaining. I chose the King of Hell over you! Maybe I was just...tired of babysitting you. Or always having to yank your lame ass out of the fire since…” he laughed. “Forever. Or maybe...Maybe it was the fact that my mother would still be alive if it wasn’t for you. That your very existence sucked the life out of my life!” 

I turned to Sam, and said firmly, “this isn’t your brother talking.” 

“You never had a brother! Just an excuse for not manning up. But guess what: I quit.” 

Anger then came from Sam, “No. No, you don’t. You don’t get to quit. We don’t get to quit in this family! This family is all we have ever had!” 

“Well, then, we got nothin’.” 

“Would you say that to Dad?” Sam asked with a small wave of grief. 

More anger came from Dean, “Dad? Oh, there’s a prize. There’s a man who _brainwashed_ us into wasting our lives fighting his losing battle!” Sam turned away from that and prepared the next syringe. “Oh. Ooh. Is this you manning up?” 

Sam turned around and headed straight for him. “This is me yanking your lame ass out of the fire.” Sam plunged the needle into Dean’s arm and gave him the dose. “You’re welcome.” 

Sam walked out of the room as Dean gasped in pain. I quickly followed him, closing the door behind me. He didn’t stay in the hallway, no he was walking. “Sam!” I called out. He stopped and turned to me with tears in his eyes. Anger and grief was all over him, as well as defeat. I went up to him and immediately pulled him into a hug. “Everything’s gonna be okay, Sam. It has to be.” 

“I don’t know how much more I can take.” He said with a shaky voice. 

“I know...I know. But you're not alone. I’ve got you guys. We’re gonna be okay.” 

With his good arm, he gripped me tighter. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”

I chuckled a little. “Well, your stuck with me. Deal with it.” He laughed at that, then started to pull away. When I did, I pressed my nose to his and smiled gently. “Let’s take a break, okay? He’s gotta stew for a while before the next one.” 

He smiled a bit and we broke a part all together. I took Sam’s hand and we headed down the halls. After a few minuets, I ran to get us some water, thinking Sam would rest in his room. When I returned, I found him in Dean’s. Sam had sat down on the bed and found his brother’s small but precious collection of family photos.

Earlier I had changed the sheets on his bed, in hope that when he was cured he would sleep on his beloved memory foam mattress. I still smile at the memories of when we went shopping for it. I walked over, exchanging a quick look with Sam over the memories. 

I sat next to him, leaning against his good shoulder as we looked at them. From pictures of their parents, to them with Bobby, me and boys together, even a goofy picture Dean and I took when we were dressed up in our LARPing attire. The last, made me the happiest, pictures of Sam and Dean together. Made us both think of good memories. 

“We’re going to get him back, Sam. I know it.” 

He sighed. “I hope so.” Soon enough, we put the pictures back. We left the room and headed back to the dungeon, knowing full well, we had to give Dean another dose. The last one thankfully. As we walked in however, my heart dropped. I couldn’t sense Dean anymore. He escaped the devils trap. 

“Oh god…” I said in a whisper. Sam grabbed my hand and took out the demon knife. 

He handed it to me, and said, “we need to shut the place down. Keep him here long enough to get him trapped.” 

I nodded, “wait a minute...I’ll sense him.” I closed my eyes and took a breath. When I did sense him, I knew exactly where he was, but we had to be careful. He was waving off pure anger and determination. He was turning this into a freaking game. 

I pulled Sam by the hand and headed towards where we stored the keys for the control room. It was where the lock down switch was. Unfortunately, we had to pass where Dean was to get to them. 

When he switched rooms, Sam and I pressed against a wall, hiding from him. When a door opened, Sam and I rushed quietly down the hall and into the war room. We could hear Dean as Sam found the drawer of keys. “Come on, Sammy! Don’t you want to hang out with your big brother? Spend a little quality time?” 

Sam and I snuck narrowly passed Dean again, and headed straight for the control room, but unfortunately Dean’s random search was making it hard to predict where he would be. Thankfully in good time, Sam and I found the control room. We opened it and closed it behind us. Sam went straight to the controls. “I’m shutting this down. He’s going to come switch it back on...so we can trap him in here.” 

“Okay. Do it.” I replied quickly. Sam flipped the switch and the light went out. Soon enough a red flashing light filled the place and a single alarm began to sound. 

We could hear Dean call out. “Smart, Sam! Locking the place down. Doors won’t open. I get it. But here’s the thing: I don’t want to leave! Not ‘til I find you!” Sam took my hand and we left the room, causing a little bit of sound on purpose to lure him closer. “Sammy! You’re just making this worse for yourself, man! Oh, by the way, you can, uh…blame yourself for me getting loose.” Sam and I hid down the hallway away from the direction Dean was heading, I knew he would check for the keys first. “All that blood you pumped into me to make me human…Well. The less demon I was, the less the cuffs worked. And that Devil’s Trap? Well, I just walked right across it. It smarted, but still.” 

He moved closer towards the room and I held my breath. Dean didn’t see us as he walked into the control room. And as soon as he flipped the switch again, Sam and I rushed and closed the door. Trapping the brother, we locked it. Sam threw the keys on the ground as I held the knife in a defensive stance. I wished I had my sword. 

“That’s your big move?” 

“Listen to me, Dean! We were getting close, okay?” Sam called out. “I know you’re still in there somewhere. Just let us finish the treatments.” 

There was no answer, but I could sense his determination. “Dean?” I called out. 

Sam and I both jumped back as the door began to splinter and break. Dean somehow found a hammer and began breaking down the wooden door. Sam grabbed the blade from my hand and threw me behind him to protect me. “You act like I want to be cured!” He then made a hole big enough to look through. “Personally, I like the disease.” 

“Dean, stop that! Look, I don’t want to use this blade on you!” Sam told him. 

“That sucks for you, doesn’t it? ‘Cause you really mean that! Haha.” 

“Look, if you come out of that room, I won’t have a choice!”

“Sure you will! And I know which one you’ll make. Isn’t that right, Sammy? But see...Here’s the thing: I’m lucky. Oh, hell, I’m blessed! ‘Cause there’s just enough demon left in me that killing you? Ain’t no choice at all. Only problem is...which one of you do I get to kill first, and make the other watch.” He then continued to break the door down. 

Sam and I bolted down the halls, terrified, looking for any hiding spot. “Sammy?” I could hear Dean. “Come on, Sammy! Let’s have a beer, talk about it. I’m tired of playing. Let’s finish this game!” 

Sam and I ducked behind a wall, breathing hard. I couldn’t sense anything with my heart beating so fast. Sam looked down the hall a moment, seeing nothing. Then I turned back just in time to make Sam and I duck. Dean had come up behind us and swung the hammer at Sam’s face, only to get it lodged in the wall. 

On instinct, Sam threw me behind him and out the blade at Dean’s throat. “Well...Look at you.” I began to calm as I sensed Cas entering the hallway. “Do it. It’s all you.” 

Sam saw him too, and let the knife fall. Dean smiled a moment and his eyes went back. As he stepped closer to us, Cas wrapped his arms around Dean, restraining him. “It’s over.” Cas told him. His eyes glowing with grace, stronger than I had last seen him. “Dean, it’s over.” Dean began to yell and roar with frustration and anger. “It’s over.” 

Cas dragged Dean to the dungeon and strapped him down. His head hung low as Sam administered the last dose. Guilt came over him. “What the hell are we doing to him, Cas? I mean, even after we gave him all that blood, he still said he didn’t want to be cured, that he didn’t want to be human.” 

“Well…I see his point. You know, only humans can feel real joy, but...also such profound pain. This is easier.” 

I sighed. “Yeah, I guess it was.” I understood wanting to be free of that pain. Living with it every day. Not only my own, but also everyone’s around me. It would be easier, but then I wouldn't be human. 

Then I felt a change in Dean. All that anger and determination, that use to be so strong, faded. The elder brother woke up and opened his black eyes. After a moment, the black dissipated. We all watched carefully and in shock. Sam unscrewed the flask of holy water as Dean groaned and let out a breath. Dean looked directly at us. 

“You look worried, fellas.” 

Sam splashed the holy water on his face and nothing happened. Sam and I smiled for the first time at him in a long time. “Welcome back, Dean.” He told him. For a few moments of quiet, all of the things that made Dean came back, his compassion and guilt came at me. 

I sighed in relief. Cas and I immediately went to his binds and undid them. As soon as he stood up, I tackled Dean into a hug, he chuckled a bit at the sudden contact. “Don’t ever die on me again. You hear me? _Ever_. Got it?” 

He laughed as he gave me a good squeeze. “Yeah, ESP. I got it.” 

I let go of him and Sam came up to him. He gave him a big bear hug as best he could with his bad arm. “It’s really good to have you back.” Sam told him. 

“Yeah…” Dean said unconvinced. 

…

I knew Dean would appreciate the clean sheets. We got him to his room to rest and change. After a little bit, sensing his guilt through the door, I knocked. “Hey, it’s me. Can I come in?” 

“Yeah.” I heard him faintly say. I opened the door, “Hey.” 

“Hey,” I said with a gentle smile. He was sitting on his chair drinking the water I had brought him earlier. “How are you feeling?” 

“Like crap.” 

I chuckled, “Well, you look like it so…” that earned me a laugh. I walked in to the room more and sat on the bed. “But really?” 

He sighed and looked away. “Like I went to hell and back...look I want to say...I’m sorry-“ 

“Hey. I know. That wasn’t you.” 

“But it was.” 

I shook my head. “That was a demon. The worst parts of you that came to light, but you weren’t all the way gone.” 

“Yeah,” Dean said and nodded, his guilt still there. “But I said some bullshit in there...I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry.” 

“I know. You’re forgiven.” 

“And what if I don’t deserve it?” 

I sighed a little and stood, “It doesn’t matter if you deserve my forgiveness or not...you have it. Okay?” 

Dean nodded and started to wave off less guilt. “And what about Sam?” 

“I think you already have his forgiveness as well. Despite you trying to kill us with a hammer.” 

We both chuckled at that. “I’m not gonna live that down.” 

“You will eventually.” 

Dean stood up then with a smile, I assumed to head to his bed, “so...why? Why did you keep going after me? Sam I get, I’m blood...but, you…?” 

I laughed, “after _everything_ we’ve been through together...you’re the big brother I never asked for...and I’m so glad I have you. So yeah, I fought for you. Cause I know you would do the same for me.” 

Dean pulled me into a hug. I wrapped him in my arms tightly. “Thank you, little sister. For fighting for me.” 

“Always, big brother.” Not long after Dean and I broke apart, we were deep in a conversation. He edged a little about the whole experience, and I told him about some of the hell Sam and I went through the last few months. Still, Dean was pretty tight lipped about everything. Which was understandable. 

Soon enough, Sam came in. “Hey, you.” I said with a smile. He waved off relief mostly, and a bit of joy at seeing Dean and I. 

“Hey.” He sat down in the chair. 

Dean then finally asked, “so what the hell happened to your arm?”

I laughed at Sam’s bitch face. “Friggen demon, what else?” So we proceeded to tell Dean the story of the demon that hurt Sam's shoulder and busted his elbow. 

Soon enough, Sam and I left Dean to rest in order to give Cas an update, as well as to send Sam out for some food. We walked into the library to see Cas looking over the demon possession books we had left about the library. “Hey.” I said greeting him. 

He was waving off some worry. “How’s he doing?” 

“He’s uh...He’s still a little out of it,” Sam said with a wave of relief, “but better, I think. I mean, I think this whole thing—the blood cure, and the…all of it—really wrecked him, you know?” 

“Yeah.” 

“On the plus side, he’s hungry again, so I’m just going to go pick him up a big ol’ bag of crap food and stuff it in his face myself.” 

“You mind keeping an eye with me?” I asked with a smile. 

“Yeah.” Sam then moved to leave, when Cas called out, “Sam?” 

“Yeah.”

“You realize one problem is solved, but one still remains. Dean is no longer a demon, that’s true. But the Mark of Cain…that, he still has. And sooner or later, that’s going to be an issue.” 

I sighed, knowing full well that will become a problem, but what Sam said next put it perfectly. “You know what, Cas? I’m beat, man. One battle at a time, you know? So I’m just gonna go grab my brother some cholesterol. And then, I’m gonna get drunk.” 

“You and me both.” I said with a gently but tired smile. “Drive safe.” 

“Yeah.” Sam said then walked off.

“How are you doing?” Cas then asked me. 

I sighed again then chuckled, shaking my head at it all. “I saw it all coming...when Dean wielded the blade for the first time...I was terrified of it, Cas. And now...I feel like I should’ve done more to prevent it you know?” 

“I share your worries...but I wasn’t asking about him.” 

I huffed. I knew Cas was asking about the nightmares and my mental state. “Not much better. Honestly now...with Dean being back, I feel a little less worried, but...I had a panic attack. When uh...that Cole guy had us...it triggered me.” 

Cas listened intently, then gently took my hand into his. Placing his other on top, he said, “all wounds heal with time, as you know. I’m here whenever you need to talk about it.” 

I smiled gently. “Thank you, Cas. Really. If it weren’t for you or Sam, and hopefully Dean now...I don’t know how I would be.” 

Cas smiled back and nodded. “I’m going to check on Dean now.” He walked off towards Dean’s room, and I decided to go down to my own.

As I was walking pass Dean’s door, I heard him say, “I tried to kill him, Cas. Both of them.” 

I stopped at the words. He was waving off guilt and worry again. Cas then said, “Dean. You all have been through so much. Look, you’re brothers. It’d take a lot more than trying to kill Sam with a hammer to make him want to walk away.” 

“You realize how screwed up our lives are that that even makes sense.” Cas and I both laughed a little, quietly on my end. “I’m glad you’re here, man.” 

I smiled at that. Cas then said, as I sensed him move to leave, “Hey, maybe you should um...take some time before you get back to work. Allow yourself to heal. It’s, uh...I don’t know. The timing might be right. Heaven and Hell—they seem reasonably back in order. It’s quiet out there.” 

The idea sounded wonderful. So I went up to the door and knocked. I opened it wider and they both looked up at me. “Did I just hear Cas suggest we go on a vacation?” 

They both chuckled. “Yeah, yeah he did.” 

I smiled brightly. “Where’re we going?” Dean smiled back at me with a small wave of joy. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh the scenes between the brothers and reader are my favorite, really wanted to show off their love for each-other. Romantic or not. Up next, Paper Moon. Will post soon!


	4. Paper Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Sam, Dean, and I go on a well-deserved vacation, a werewolf case pops up. And a person from an old case of ours with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright! New chapter and brand new motivation on the end of season ten. Hope you all enjoy this one with the return of Kate. I know I didn't write a chapter for her initial episode, the found footage one, but there wasn't a lot of content to work from it, so I skipped it. But just know that I hope this chapter doesn't disappoint. it was a great deal of fun to write.--Indigo

_“A broken friendship that is mended through forgiveness can be even stronger than it once was.”_ —Stephen Richards 

A few days after curing Dean, we took off towards Washington. There was a lake there the boys loved going to as kids, which wasn’t often, but it had fond memories for both of them. So we packed our crap up, and drove. 

When we got to the lake, we got a local motel spot and just relaxed. We spent most days on the lake side. Dean kept a bunch of beer in the back and some lawn chairs, and I read through a trashy romance novel while the boys enjoyed the quiet. 

That afternoon was more of that. The three of us sat in the creaky chairs, the case of beer between the boys, my legs draped over Sam’s to read my novel, and all three of us wearing sunglasses. 

For once, we all waved off contemptment and peace for a long while. But I knew we were getting a bit antsy. Seeing as we hadn’t looked for a case in a while, something that used to be our normal, Dean especially was getting the itch. Even found something in the paper. 

Still, we were on the lake, and I wanted to finish my book. But when Dean, waved off a little curiosity, I knew that might not have been a possibility. “Hey, something I needed to ask you.” He said to Sam. 

“Shoot.” 

A wave of amusement came from him, “You've been... Kicked, bit, scratched, stabbed, possessed, killed...And you sprain your friggin' elbow?” 

Sam was not amused, “Dude, it was more than a sprain. Alright? And it _was_ a friggin' demon, but…” 

I looked up from my book, “What? That sling come with a slice of…crybaby pie on the side?” Sam smiled despite it all. I did too. “Please.” Dean said with a smirk. We all laughed a little. 

I went back to my book as Sam looked over his brother. Now he was waving off a bit of concern. “How you doing?” 

“Golden, man.” Dean lied. 

“Come on.” Sam said, knowing that he was using his puppy dog eyes. 

“Seriously, I'm good. I am.” Dean said, deflecting. “You know, we got...Three more cases of this stuff on ice in the trunk,” He said gesturing to the beer, “ESP’s got her beach read. Taking some ‘we time.’…best decision we ever made.” 

“Hear that.” Sam said as they toasted. 

I smiled at that. “Yes, yes it was. We should do it more often.” After a few moments, Dean’s itch just couldn’t wait. 

“See that thing in the paper this morning?” 

Sam huffed. “Maybe it was an animal kill.” 

“It was three kills, and it was in the same town, all within the last month.” 

“Yeah, you're right.” I said, not looking up from my book, “We should call some guys, have 'em fix it.” 

Dean nodded. “Good. Smart.” 

“Done.” Sam said. 

After another moment, Dean said, “Or... We could be in and out. It's a milk run.” 

I chuckled and marked my book before closing it. As I did, Sam said, “Right, because that happens...never.” 

Dean took off his sunglasses and rubbed his face a little. “Look, Sam, what we're doing here, it's good, okay? The three of us, hanging out. But I need to work...I need this.” 

Sam frowned and took off his sunglasses. He exchanged a look with me, after I took off my own, saying that Dean wanted this. Sam then said, “If things go sideways...I mean, like, an inch, you gotta give us the heads-up.” 

“Done.” Dean said getting up, “you got my word.” He grabbed his chair and eagerly moved towards the Impala behind us. Sam and I sighed heavily. 

“Next vacation we take,” I said before moving my legs off Sam’s, “we leave his ass home.” That earned me a laugh from Sam. He gladly agreed before we grabbed our chairs and the rest of the beer. 

We drove the few hours to the town, and prepared to head into the sheriffs station. But not as FBI, but as something else. “Game Wardens? Really?” I asked as Dean handed me a uniform. 

“They classified it as animal attacks.” Dean replied, “Not FBI jurisdiction. Get dressed, come on.” 

I rolled my eyes and put the damned thing on. As we walked into the station, I missed my fed suit. The uniform was a little itchy and fairly unflattering to be honest. But we had a job to do. The first person we saw was one of the sheriffs. Sam and I flashed the IDs while Dean handed his in. He had freshly made them at the local Kinkos. 

The sheriff waved off relief as he said, “Gentlemen. Ma’am. Well, I'm not gonna lie. We're damn glad to see you.” He handed the ID back to Dean. “You boys must come up on stuff like this all the time.” 

“Oh, yeah.” The boys quickly agreed. 

“Yeah, definitely.” I said with a polite smile. 

“Hell, seen raccoons in rec rooms and bears in swimming pools. But this? You tell me.” 

“Yeah.” Dean replied. The sheriff then paused and looked at us expectantly, looking for some war stories. “Oh. Well, uh... Where do we start? What with, uh...Logging.” 

“Ice caps.” Sam replied. 

“Bitcoin. Yeah.” Dean started to fluster as the Sheriff started to scrutinize us. “Obama.” 

“You know what?” Sam stepped in thankfully, “Maybe-maybe, uh, you could walk us through the attacks. Any similarities, anything weird.” 

“Only thing weird about them was how similar they were. Folks torn clean through. Hearts...absent.” 

I then said, “Hearts absent as in-“ 

“Consumed, most likely.” 

“And there were no witnesses?” Dean asked. 

“Well, the town square attack, the parking lot...Those were real late. But the bar? Hell, with how jammed the place was, you'd think somebody other than Tommy would've seen something.” 

“And what did he see?” Sam asked. 

“Honestly, not much. Now Tommy ain't exactly what we call a reliable witness. And he's telling anybody who'll listen he saw some girl go out back with Barker, and she got torn up, too.” 

“So there was a _second_ victim?” I asked, suddenly worried. 

“Well, sure...Except Tommy's a drunk. There's no body, no D.N.A., no blood trail, no _nothing_ to suggest that.” A deputy then approached the sheriff in front of us. “Give me one sec,” he said then walked away with him. 

Dean waved off plenty of excitement, “Hearts missing. Sounds wolfy to me, right?”

“Yeah.” Sam said as we agreed, “pretty brazen, even for a werewolf.” 

“You think it was the girl.” 

Sam shrugged a little as I said, “let’s find out.” We got some files from the station then headed straight for the bar where the last attack was to find this witness. The place was called Panheads, and it definitely was a biker bar. And it sure smelt like a dive. 

Tommy sat in front of us with a large mug of beer as he told us about the victim. “Yeah, Barker and I have been raising hell, chasing tail, and riding for a long time. Part of him always knew when his clock ran out, it wasn't gonna be pretty. To go out like _that_? By some animal? Just ain't right.” He waved off some grief as he shook his head. 

“You mind, uh, you mind telling us what went down?” Dean asked. 

“It was just another party, you know? Barker went out back. The next thing you know, everyone's yelling and screaming, and he's all torn up.” 

“Now the sheriff mentioned you thought there might've been a girl involved.” Sam asked him, “You think she was killed, too?” 

“Nope.” He said as he reached for his beer to take a large swig. 

“So there was no girl?” I asked. 

“Couldn’t say.” He lied. Anxiety wafted off the man as he side-eyed Dean. 

I gave Sam a look, telling him silently that he was lying, and he said to him, “You know we're not cops, right?” 

“Badge is a badge.” 

Dean then told him, trying to get the guy to speak up, “Well, you should also know that working outdoors the way we do, we see some–some pretty weird crap. Stuff that we can't explain. I mean, hell, half the stuff, we wouldn't have believed it ourselves had we not seen it together.” 

“Well, you don't have to live in this town, mister. You don't have to deal with the ridicule.” 

“I'm just saying that crazy might not be half as crazy as you think.” 

With some hesitation, Tommy said, “So if someone were to tell you they saw a ghost, you'd...believe that?” 

Dean exchanged a look with Sam, “Just assume we believe everything.” 

Tommy then nodded decisively, a wave of determination came from him, “Okay, then. The other night, I was taking a ride past the old Sturges farm. You know, thinking about the rides me and Barker used to go on. I saw her, man.” 

Sam raised his eyebrows, “Saw her, who?” 

“The girl.” 

“What, after the attack?” I asked. 

“Hell, yeah. She was just standing there, all bloody, watching me. So-so I turn the hell around, I-I ran back, thinking, damn, you know, she—But...She was just gone. Like, gone.” 

Sam nodded, “like a ghost.” 

“No, I don't give one red cent in hell what the cops say. She was there. She was eaten. She's a freakin' ghost.” Tommy then took another long swig of beer as we all exchanged a look with one another. We knew what we had on our hands. 

…

That night, we tracked the werewolf to an old, abandoned barn on the edge of town. We pulled up and got out of the car. All three of us checked our pistols, loaded up with silver bullets, “Ghosts don’t shred people like that.” I said as we started to look around. 

Dean fiddled with his gun, ejecting the magazine and checking it he said, “Yeah, well...This flea bag, looks like she ain't done chowing down on Sons of Anarchy just yet.” 

“Guess she likes bad boys,” Sam remarked. 

“Well, wait’ll she gets a load of us.” 

I rolled my eyes and cocked my gun, “let’s go.” With our flashlights, the three of us walked quietly towards the barn. As we took a pause, I sensed there was only one in the barn, telling Dean that by showing one finger. Dean then motioned for Sam to circle around the back while he and I would take the front entrance. 

As we got closer to the door, we found several dead chicken carcasses with their feathers still on. The two of us found a door with several scratches on it as well as the doorway. Claw marks. 

Dean went in first, clearing the area, and I went in behind him. As soon as we heard the voice, we shut the lights off. With our guns trained on her, we walked steadily towards her. She was waving off worry, frustration, and fear. 

“Stop ignoring my calls. Pick up the phone and call me right now. This isn't how it's supposed to go. Look, I've been down this road before and I'm not going to…” 

The wave of realization and her sniff of the air told me she sensed us. The woman bolted away from us. As we ran after her, she stopped suddenly when she was caught by Sam. Trained with his gun, she froze, but so did he. The wave of realization from him told me he recognized her. 

“What?” I asked putting my gun down. 

Sam grabbed her and turned her around so that we could see her face. “Kate?” Dean said as we both waved off shock. 

Kate was the young, blonde woman whom we found working a werewolf case two years before. Well, we found the movie she made from all of the footage documenting her boyfriend's accidental transformation into a wolf, then her friend, and herself. She was the sole survivor of that incident. Her message to us was that she wouldn’t feed off of human hearts, only on animals. 

The three of us were disappointed and shocked that she fell off the wagon. Dean quickly grabbed Kate, who hardly fought him, and he tied her up to a beam with heavy ropes. We wanted answers. 

Still, she was pissed as we all stared at her. “I know who you are.” She said defiantly, waving off fear and anger. 

“Congratulations,” Dean said dryly. 

“After what happened at school, I thought you'd let me go.” 

“Yeah,” Sam said with disappointment and anger coming from him, “well, that was before you started dropping bodies.” 

A wave of shock came from her, “what?” 

Dean waved off some smugness as I grew confused by the girl. “Guy at the bar saw you before you went all Wolverine on his buddy. So...Surprise. Here we are.” 

“Kate, you said you were gonna go straight.” I asked, “What happened?” 

Anger and protectiveness came from her, “I guess things change. Being this...I tried to be strong, but the hunger was too much. Too hard. It's not like anyone gave me a handbook on how to be a werewolf.” 

“Looks like you're doing a pretty good job so far.” Dean said with sarcasm dripping in his voice, “Break some hearts, then you eat 'em.” 

“I was on my own. I...evolved.” That was a lie. 

“So that's what you call killing innocent people?” Sam asked, hurt. 

“Whatever you’re gonna do, just...do it.” She said with a wave of acceptance. 

The brothers looked at each other. As Dean pulled out his gun, he cocked it and moved towards her. I didn’t understand it all, but it looked like she was the killer. As he pointed it at Kate, he hesitated. I wanted to step in, but Sam did for me. We stepped aside as he said, “Hey. You know what? Let me do it.” 

“Why?” Dean asked, confused. 

“Because...I think you should sit this one out.” Sam said with concern. 

“What are you talking about?” 

“You're not ready, Dean.” 

I furrowed my eyebrows at that. “Guys, are we even sure she’s the kil-“

Sam’s cell phone then rang, he picked it up, Dean watching her a moment. “Hello?...when?”

I leaned up to hear the sheriff, “Deputy said the victim's blood was still warm when he got there, so had to be less than an hour ago.” 

“Of course. Thank you. Um, I'll be in touch.” Sam hung up and looked at Dean. “We got a problem.” 

“What, besides, uh, werewolf Barbie over here?” 

“Yeah. There was another kill, across town, just before dark.” 

“Well, how did Kate get her murder on and then get back here b-“ the look Sam and I gave him told him it all. “You don’t think she did it.” 

“I don’t think so.” I replied. 

While Sam said, “Look...I don't know, man. But as far as I'm concerned-“ 

The snap of some rope and someone bolting had us look up. Kate was gone. “Dammit!” Dean shouted as we ran out of the barn. As we headed towards the Impala, Dean said, “Alright, if she's not icing people, then why play the big bad wolf?” 

“Maybe she's running with a pack?” I asked, “You know, trying to protect them?” 

“Well, a hell of a price to pay. She was about two seconds away from taking a dirt nap.” Dean then pulled out a pink little phone. 

“What is that?” Sam asked him. 

“It's her phone. Let's see who she was booty calling when we pulled up.” He pressed a redial on the last number. 

“ _Thank you for calling the Lincoln Motel. Can I help you?_ ” He hung up, and we all piled into the Impala. 

After Sam looked up the address, Dean drove towards it and began waving off concern and anger. “So what's this about me not being ready back there?” 

“I'm-I wasn't...trying to start something, Dean,” Sam said, defensively. “I was just saying, I thought that was the whole point of us taking a break. You know?” 

“Oh, no. No, yeah. I get that. And, you know, there's no worries there.” 

“Okay.”

I started to shrink back in the seat, wishing to stay out of the brewing argument. “But I gotta ask. What about you?” Dean asked his brother. 

“What about me, what?” 

“Are you ready?” 

“Why wouldn’t I be ready?” Sam asked defensively. 

“Lester.” 

“Lester?” Guilt and anger came from Sam, “You’re serious? This is about Lester?” 

“Yeah...don't get me wrong. I'm not—I'm not—I'm not trying to start anything either, okay? I'm just saying, maybe...we oughta talk about that.” 

“Okay, except there’s nothing to talk about.” 

Dean shrugged. “Okay.” 

“Okay.” 

There was an awkward silence of anger, defensiveness, and guilt. It was almost unbearable, only to be made worse by Dean’s words. “I just figured, since we're opening up veins that maybe you'd want to talk about the guy who you made sell his soul.” 

“The guy who _you_ then killed, right? I mean, that’s the same guy we’re talking about?” 

“I was a demon,” Dean said, trying to excuse himself. 

“Oh, you were a demon? Oh, I didn't realize that,” Sam told him sarcastically. 

“Sam,” I said, but the boys barely heard me. 

“Hey, man, Lester was gonna pay for that soul shake sooner or later. So technically, it's still on you.” 

“What do you want from me, Dean? Look, I w—I'm not happy about it, okay? But I needed to find you.” Sam said with waves of frustration. “So if I had to...bend a few rules…” 

“Go dark.” 

“Go dark. Sure. Label it if you want.” 

“Look, man, again, I'm not complaining, okay? In fact, I'm doing just the opposite of complaining. I...I just...You know, between Lester and the others…” 

“There weren’t others.” 

“Okay, either way, maybe we both needed that time off.” Dean looked to Sam, who just rolled his eyes. “This is good.”

“This is good. Yeah. Okay.” 

I sighed heavily. Thankful it was over. Dean then looked at me through his rear view mirror, a wave of concern came over him. That only pissed me off, “Try that on me, see what happens.” I said warningly. To which he kept his mouth shut for the rest of the ride. 

…

I fell asleep on the ride over, and in the early morning. We made it. Waking up, Dean was waiting with me, watching through the side mirror. I was more awake as Sam came out of the reception office and walked towards us. He leaned into the driver’s window and said, “Alright, so the, uh, clerk says a blonde rolled into room 3 just before sunup.” 

“She alone?” Dean asked. 

“He thinks so.” 

A wave of realization and anticipation came from Dean as he said, “she’s on the move.” Sam and I both looked over casually to see the blonde woman locking her motel room door and began walking away in the other direction. 

After a few moments, Dean and I both got out of the car. The three of us, armed with our silver bullets and knives, followed her on foot. We walked not far behind her in the morning light as she led us to a wooded park that had plenty of joggers and other people walking. 

As we followed her, I grew nervous with all of the civilians around us. Eventually however, she turned down a quieter trail, following a jogger. Shadowing her, Sam asked, “what’s she doing?” 

“Looking for breakfast,” Dean replied. We grew closer and closer to her until finally, she came up behind the jogger. 

“Kate!” I called out as we pulled out our guns. 

“It’s over,” Sam shouted. 

The woman then turned around as the jogger ran off, but it wasn’t Kate. It was a young blonde woman, maybe a few years younger, waving off fear. She raised her hands as she said, “Oh, god. Please, don't. I'll give you anything you want.” 

We lowered our guns. “Where’s Kate?” 

“Who?” The wave of protectiveness told me that she was playing dumb. 

“You were just in her motel room.” 

“What? That’s my room.” 

“Why were you following that guy?” I asked. 

“Robbie? I-I know him. I just wanted to surprise him.” She lied again. 

“Test her,” Sam told his brother, seeing my distrust. 

“Test me for what?” Dean ignored her and put away his gun, as he approached her, he took his knife from his shirt. “No! Help! Somebody help me!” She screamed. 

“Just take it easy.” 

I barely heard her say, “I don’t want to die,” before she changed before our eyes. Her eyes glowed yellow and grew fangs and claws. She went after Dean first, throwing him around a bit then Sam, eventually though she threw herself on me. I was on my back when she wrapped her claws around my throat. I fought her hands as I gasped for air. 

Kate appeared out of nowhere, grabbing the werewolf and hauled her off me. “Stop it! Stop it!” 

I coughed and sputtered as Sam got me to my feet and Dean trained the gun on the werewolf. A wave of protectiveness and fear came from Kate, shielding the younger woman as she ran off. “Don't! She’s my sister.” 

After a moment, Dean ran after her, on the promise Sam would keep her at the spot. “You okay?” Sam asked me. 

I nodded. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.” I looked at Kate, “she’s your sister?” 

Dean then came back wafting off all sorts of anger. “I lost her.” He then pulled the gun on the girl in front of us. “Kate, why is your sister a werewolf, huh?” 

“Hey. Hey.” Sam said, stopping Dean. 

“Why?!”

“Let her talk,” I said, knowing that she was scared. 

“I am!” 

“Then put the gun down,” Sam told him. 

“Why? So she can run again? Nuh-uh.” 

“She just saved our lives,” I said firmly and staring the Winchester down. 

Dean looked up at her, still having the gun trained on her. Kate was waving off fear and despair, and it was in her eyes too. Dean lowered the gun. 

“My sister is a werewolf because I turned her into one,” Kate said quickly. 

“Okay, this is the part where you help yourself out,” Dean told her. 

“I-I don't care. Alright? I'm sick of the lies.” 

Dean put his gun away, with me signing some relief, “Let me get this straight. We let you run because we take pity on you, and you turn around and you start making pups? You start killing people?!” 

She shouted back at him. “It’s not like that! I’m no killer.” She wasn’t lying then. 

“Well, the way I remember it from the snuff film that you left us, is that you killed your boyfriend's best friend.” 

“That's because Brian went _crazy_. I had no other choice.” 

“Okay,” I said, trying to diffuse the tension, “Kate if this wasn’t you…” 

“That’s a big ‘if’...” I rolled my eyes at Dean. 

“Then who was it? Your sister?” 

“Your sister do this, Kate?” Sam asked. 

“Really?” Dean said with some disbelief. Kate just stared at us blankly, not wishing to say a word. “You almost took a bullet for her, and you got nothing?” 

She shook her head. “What do you want me to say?” 

“The truth!” 

I sensed them before I saw them. A bunch of joggers. “Sam.” 

He looked up to see them coming down the trail. “Hey, guys. Whoa-whoa-whoa. Can we, uh, take it somewhere else?” 

“Oh, yeah, sure.” Dean said dryly, “Go grab some coffee, maybe some bear hearts.” He motioned for Kate to move. “Let’s party.” 

The three of us took Kate back to the Impala then down to a nearby diner. We were all silent as we sat down in a booth. The boys sat across from Kate and I. I wasn’t afraid of her now, but I knew Dean wasn’t as trusting. “Just so you know, Brian's the reason I carry this.” She reached around to the small of her back. She froze when Dean spoke.

“Hey,” Dean reached for his gun himself, with waves of protectiveness. 

“Dean, it’s okay,” I told him. 

“I'm just showing you something.” She slowly pulled out a silver dagger. “In case I ever lose it, like Brian did, you won't have to kill me.” I nodded and she put it away. Sitting next to me, she was still uneasy. 

“Yeah, well, saying it and doing it are two different things,” Dean said, relaxing a little. 

“I'm serious. And whether you believe me or not, I've _never_ hurt anyone who didn't deserve it. And I have _never_ , _ever_ eaten a human heart.” 

I nodded at the boys, letting them know she wasn’t lying, “Guess that explains all the dead chickens back at the barn.” I told them. 

“I eat what I can find, what people won't miss, hopefully. Small game, deer. I meditate. Yoga helps.” 

“Yoga?” Sam asked. 

“Okay,” Dean said, mockingly. 

“You laugh, but...I'll pretty much try anything to keep that side of me under control.” She said with a wave of determination. 

“Well, that is great, Kate. It really is.” Dean said with a wave of anger, “And it's nice to see that, uh, this hippie-dippie new age crap has had such a positive influence over your sister.” 

Worry and anger came from Kate as she sighed. “Tasha...She's a different story. After I left school, I was...Adrift. Lost. Not really sure where to go or...What to do, so...I went someplace safe. I went home. But...Even though I'd be good, I started to think about my family. How safe were they going to be? I was a werewolf. And then, of course, there was you two. What if you showed up and tried to kill me? I couldn't risk that. So I...walked away. Never called, never wrote, just...Started a new life. Until one day, I saw a posting on my sister's Facebook page.” A wave of fear came from her at that. “Tasha had been in a really bad car accident. The doctors didn't think she was gonna make it. We were always so close, so...I had to go say good-bye. Then...It hit me. This curse that I had, that had brought me nothing but pain and suffering, could actually finally maybe do something good.” 

Sam and I exchanged a look at that. “If I turned Tasha into a werewolf, it would heal her wounds, save her life, give her a second chance.” Now a wave of guilt. “So, uh...I did the unthinkable. At first, I thought I'd failed, that...Even though werewolves heal quickly, it was too late for Tasha. Then she woke up, not sick anymore, but okay. Tasha had so many questions. What happened? How did she get here? So...I was straight with her. The good, the bad, the ugly. What we were and why we could never go back home, and…the responsibility we had to control what we'd become. It was a lot to swallow. But we had each other, and that felt like enough. Or...So I thought. My sister...she gave in to everything that I had warned her about. And...I knew, even if I couldn't bring myself to admit it then…I knew I was losing her.” 

“So back at the barn, that was all just an act to protect Tasha?” Sam asked. I had wind of it, but now with it all being confirmed, it reminded me so much of Sam and Dean. 

“She's family. And, yeah, worth eating a bullet for.” The boys exchanged a look acknowledging the same thing, “And she needs me now more than ever. This is my mess. I gotta clean it up.” 

“And how do you plan on doing that, Kate?” I asked her solemnly. 

“By getting Tasha out of here.” She said with a wave of determination. 

“She hasn't listened to you yet.” Sam asked her, “Why do you think she's gonna start now?” 

Waves of fear and sadness came from the girl as she teared up, “I don't know, but... I've gotta try. Y-you know, we'll go out into the woods. We'll drop out for however long it takes until she learns to control this.” 

“Little late for team building, do you think?” Dean said darkly. 

“So, what? I just abandon her? I did this. I owe her every chance to make it right.” 

I decided to try and rip off the bandaid, “What if she never does?” 

“Then I'll take care of it.” 

“You'll take care of it? You know what that means?” Dean asked her. 

“Why don’t you ask Brian?” She bit back. 

“Well, maybe it doesn't have to come to that. You know, if you had shot straight with us from the get-go, we might've been able to help you a lot sooner.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“By curing you both.” Sam and I both looked up with disbelief. 

She laughed, “Shut up.” 

“Yeah, okay, or you're welcome.” He said dryly. 

“There is no cure for werewolves.” 

“And for a long time, that was true, but we found one.” Kate looked at us eagerly as Dean lied. “Now we've got everything we need on our end. Okay? But the clock is tickin', and we need one more thing—Tasha. Unless…you wanna do this without her?” 

Waves of hope came from the girl next to me. “N-no. No. It's a long drive, but...I know where to find her.” 

We paid for our coffees, and Sam and I kept our mouths shut. At least until Kate was in the car, and the brothers and I had a chat at the trunk. “Dude, what are you doing? There is no cure.” Sam told him. 

Dean showed off his silver knife, “there’s one.” 

“Dean, it's a little more complicated than that,” I tried to reason with him. 

“Kate and Tasha are monsters, okay? Last I checked, we _kill_ monsters.” 

“Right, but how can you possibly blame Kate for fighting for her sister?” Sam asked him with waves of anger, “We do it all the time.” 

“Well, yeah, and that's worked wonders for us.” 

“Well, we're still here, aren't we?” 

“Yeah, but is it right? I mean, all that you've done for me, I've still got this Mark.” 

I was taken aback by that one, “Dean…” 

“And we'll figure that out. We always do.” Sam said with a wave of determination. “But you can't take whatever's happened to us or to you and-and dump it at these girls' feet.” 

“Alright, so, what? You wanna nuance this thing? Hit me. What's your plan?” 

I huffed as we didn’t really have one. So we all piled into the car. 

…

Dean had Kate sit up front, while Sam and I had the back. He wanted to keep an eye on her for the long drive, plus she didn’t really have an address. 

So we drove into the night, headed for this remote cabin in the woods. I was fighting sleep. I knew we were still a ways to go, and if I did fall asleep, I would most likely have another nightmare. I had been getting the bare minimum of sleep during that time as it was, even with the small vacation the boys and I took. 

I yawned again, and Dean seemed to notice. “Why don’t you get some rest, we’re still a while out.” 

I shook my head. “I’m fine.” 

“You know you’ve said that a lot lately?” 

“So?” I asked defensively. 

“So, you’ve barely slept,” Sam interjected. “Do you want to talk about it?” 

“No, I don’t,” I said, then Sam took my hand. They both wafted off worry. I looked up at his eyes and chuckled. “You and you’re puppy dog eyes.” 

He smiled a little and looked away. “Kate?” He called out to her gently. 

“She’s out,” Dean told him after glancing at her. 

“Okay. Then, um...I gotta tell you something.” Sam said, waving off some determination, despite him hesitating. “I, uh...I lied about Lester.” 

“What?” Dean and I asked at the same time. I was wondering how he did the feat. 

“There _were_ others.” 

“Other humans?” Dean asked him. 

“No. No, no. And-and I'm sure there were a few hunters I rubbed—or I...punched the wrong way.” 

“Hey that one guy deserved it,” I looked up to Dean, “real prick.” 

Sam chuckled a little, then said, “But...No. I pretty much saved my best stuff for the bad guys. But you gotta understand something, Dean.” My smile disappeared at that. I knew what he was going to say. “I watched you die, Dean. And I carried you.” Sam continued as I squeezed his hand, “I carried your corpse into your room, and I put your dead body on your bed, and then you just…” 

“Yeah,” Dean said softly, with pain and guilt. 

“Yeah.” 

“I know. I guess I was hoping that note would, you know, fill in the blanks.” 

“‘Don't look for me?’ That note? Yeah, that was really informative. Thanks.” 

Dean sighed at that. “Yeah, I…” 

“What?” I asked. 

“It's embarrassing, you know?” He said with a wave of shame. 

“What’s embarrassing?” 

“All of it. You know, the-the-that note. Crowley. Everything.”

“Dean, you were a demon,” Sam said firmly. 

Dean looked over his shoulder and said, sarcastically, “I was a demon? Oh, thanks. I didn't—I didn't realize.” 

I chuckled a little. “Shut up,” Sam said smiling. 

“Not to mention,” Dean said sincerely, “I never even said ‘thank you’ so…” 

“You don't ever have to say that, not to me.” 

“Well I appreciate the ‘thank you.’” I added. Earning a small chuckle from them. 

“Well...Good.” Dean said, “Then I guess...Guess it's all gravy. Little R&R and we are back at it.” He reached over and tapped on Kate’s arm. “Hey. How we doing?” He asked her after she woke up. 

She looked around, “we’re getting close.” 

“What is this place?”

A wave of nostalgia came from her, “Ever since Tasha and I were little, we've been coming up to this cabin with our parents.” 

“Now why do you think Tasha will even be here?” Sam asked. 

“When she became a wolf, we knew it was gonna be hard, so we kinda came up with this escape plan in case things ever got bad.”

“So it's a rendezvous spot?” I asked her, surprised by her. 

“Pretty much.” Dean stepped on the gas more and soon enough, we were there. We parked up, and Dean turned off the headlights. There were lights on inside the small cabin. 

“Now what?” Sam asked. 

“Maybe I should go in first, explain all this?” Kate asked. 

Dean nodded, “Sounds good,” He lied. As Kate tried to get out, he quickly grabbed her wrist and handcuffed her to the steering wheel. “What are you doing?!” The silver on the handcuffs stung her skin for a moment, “You son of a bitch!” Realization dawned on her as she stared at Dean, “There is no cure, is there? I trusted you. It’s not her fault. It’s _mine_.” 

“She killed people.” 

She looked up at him with pleading in her eyes. “Because I did this to her, okay? So if you want your pound of flesh, take me.” 

“We’ll deal with you later.” 

“But she can be saved!” 

“No. Tasha's in too deep. You don't ever come back from that, not ever.” Sam and I both looked at him with conflict. The small wave of guilt from both of them told me it sort of rang true. 

I followed Dean out of the car, but Sam took a pause. “Come on, Sammy,” Dean ordered. 

Kate was pissed and fought against the cuffs, “No! Please! Don't do this! No! Please? Don't!” As we walked towards the cabin, guns out, Kate called out. “Please! Please don’t!” 

Dean then turned around and looked at me with a low voice, “stay here and watch her.” 

“What? Why?” 

“Make sure she doesn’t get out of the cuffs and watch in case Tasha makes a break for it.” 

“Dean, I can do this-“ 

“You didn’t sleep last night." I gritted my teeth at that. "Don’t think I didn’t notice. And whatever is going on—it’s clouding your judgment.” 

“Clouding my _judgment_? Are you kidding me?” 

“You're too trusting with Kate-“ 

“And you want her to make one mistake so you can shoot her.” 

“Guys. Enough!” Sam said finally. I huffed and walked back towards the car. By the time I reached it, the boys went into the cabin. I leaned against the hood of the car, near the driver’s side. Kate was just staring daggers at me. 

“I'm only trying to save my sister.” She said quietly. I ignored her as I sensed someone in the tree line near us. “Please-“ 

“Shut up,” I told her as I pulled out my gun. I watched the line for a moment, using my senses to try and pinpoint the person in the woods. But they were too fast. Soon enough a large man was in front of me and disarmed me quickly. Dropping my gun, and throwing a punch to my face, I spun around and caught my hands onto the hood. Only for my attacker to slam my face into the black surface. 

I dropped to my knees, my head spinning, and my nose starting to bleed. Kate was dragged out of the car kicking and screaming a bit, while the man took me by the arm. As he dragged us into the cabin, I sensed his bloodlust and hunger. _He’s a werewolf too,_ I thought as the guy pushed us into a doorway. Only to see Sam and Tasha. 

My attacker kept a stronghold of me while pushing Kate into the room. “Tasha! What did—who are these people?” She asked her sister. 

I looked up to see Dean on the floor, and another big guy behind him, holding a gun. Tasha then said with a wave of excitement and pride, “Brandon. Travis.” Brandon was the one who had an iron grip on me, “I turned them. They're our new family.” 

“Yeah, you're a regular psycho _Brady Bunch_.” Dean quipped. Then the man behind him presented his wolf fangs and lurched at Dean as a warning. 

“Hey!” Sam and I shouted protectively. 

Tasha then grabbed Sam and effortlessly threw him onto the bed in the room. “Sam!” I shouted by got my armed pulled as a warning. 

“No!” Kate shouted at her sister, as Tasha straddle Sam on the bed, ready to kill as she clawed his neck. 

“You've always had crappy taste in guys.” 

“Tasha, we can talk about this.” Kate pleaded with her sister as I began to struggle with my captor. 

“I swear if you touch him-“ that earned me a proper throttle and a growl still I fought as much as I could, but the werewolf never relented. 

Tasha then got off of Sam and stood in front of her sister. “They were gonna kill me. And now you're protecting them?” 

“I’m protecting you,” Kate told her. Sam got up from the bed and backed off. 

“Yeah. I’m good. Thanks.” She replied sarcastically. She stepped towards her sister. “So here's how it's gonna be. You can walk away or you can join my pack.” 

“I’m not walking away.” 

“Then prove you got what it takes.” She looked over to Sam. “Eat his heart out.” 

“No!” I fought against my attacker again, but his grip only tightened. Kate stared at Sam a moment, the temptation causing her to wave off hunger. it made my blood run cold and my stomach drop. 

Fear came from him as he said, “Kate. You don't have to do this.” 

“No one's talking to you, Paul Bunyan!” Tasha shouted. For a few moments, they all stared at each other, wondering who was going to do what. “So?” Trashed asked expectantly. 

“No,” Kate said, shaking her head and fighting the hunger off. 

Tasha turned to her guys. “Take them. Have some fun. Oh, and I want a heart to-go. Put it in a doggie bag.” 

The other wolf pointed the gun at Sam and Dean, and they marched us into another room, away from the girls. The boys were in first as Travis ordered, “On your knees!” 

Still, Dean couldn’t control himself, “Wow. Well, I'm awfully flat—“ 

One of the wolves clocked him, and forced all three of us, side by side, onto our knees. They both looked down at us with pride and anticipation. Travis then grabbed my chin. “This one’s real pretty.” The boys both had waves of protectiveness as they stared daggers at the wolf. 

The other one perked up with a wicked smile, “she’s feisty. Think we can play with her, maybe make her part of the family.” 

I threw my head away from the wolf who had my face. “Go to hell,” I growled. 

“Nah. _Too_ feisty. Let’s have her for dessert.” 

Dean then said to us, “you okay?” 

“Mm-hmm,” I responded, subtly grabbing my silver knife from my boot. 

“I've been better.” Sam said mockingly, “These guys, huh? Can you believe 'em?” 

“Yeah, a couple of minor leaguers,” Dean replied. 

“Yo! You're dead." one of the wolves shouted, "You don't get to talk. In fact-“ 

He stopped talking when I lurched up and plugged my knife into his chest. Dean then got up with his own knife and attacked the other minion. The wolf was quick to disarm Dean, but Sam was quicker. Just as the other wolf was about to bite into Dean, Sam took his own knife and killed the second wolf. 

The body dropped and Dean quipped, “Well, welcome to the majors, boys.” 

Sam and I both chuckled a bit before we headed for the room with Kate and Tasha. The boys both found their guns, and we headed in. Only to find Tasha dead in a pool of blood, and the window open. Kate was gone. 

...

We got in the car and decided to head home. Once we started driving, Dean asked, “So, we going after her?” 

“I don’t know, Dean,” Sam said quietly. We were all tired and frustrated that we lost track of her. Still, I was glad to see she resisted temptation. 

“But you gotta admit, when push came to kill, she did good,” Dean said with a wave of surprise. 

“Yeah. So maybe it's a good thing you didn't shoot her.” 

“Really? You're gonna Monday morning quarterback this thing?” Dean sighed as I scoffed. I was tired of them dancing around all of this. Hell, I was sure they were tired of it too. “If you got an itch to scratch…” 

“Dean, look, we all jumped on this case. I agree. Equal parts blame there," Sam said finally. "But the whole idea behind laying low was to _rest_ , to...try and deal with everything we – everything _you_ went through. Maybe we jumped back in too fast. I mean, Dean…you were a demon. You _still_ have the Mark.” Worry came off Sam. “Didn’t you ever wanna talk about it?” 

Defensiveness and anger came from Dean. “Talk about it? Talk about it how?” 

“Come on, man.” 

“I am coming on, Sam, look…I know what happened. Okay? I was there. Remember? I'm not trying to get by it. I just...That's not what this was about.” 

“Then what is this about?” I asked gently. 

After a moment, Dean said, “It’s about gettin' back in the saddle. Okay? Doing something good, not stewing in my own crap.” 

“And what if you’re not ready?” Sam asked him with worry and anxiety. 

Dean turned to look at Sam but was interrupted by the ringing of a cellphone. It was the pink phone that he stole from Kate. I grabbed it and put it on speaker for him. “Well, I'll give you one thing. Pretty damned good at getaways,” he told her. 

“Yeah. Well, I decided that living was better than being dead,” she said through the phone. 

“For what it’s worth, thank you,” I told her. “At the end of the day, she was your sister.” 

“No. she wasn’t.” Sam and I exchanged a look at that. 

“Listen to me, Kate.” Dean told her, “You keep moving, you keep your nose clean, and we can stop meeting like this.” 

“I hear ya. And I will, but I'm not gonna promise, 'cause…” 

“Yeah,” Sam said, agreeing. We knew that was a promise that she may not have been able to keep. 

“See you around, kid,” Dean told her. 

“I sure as hell hope not.” 

I chuckled, “us too.” With that, she hung up. I put the phone back and glanced at Dean through the rearview mirror. Quiet was among us for a few moments. Then Dean said, “Let's say you're right.” 

“About what?” Sam asked him. 

“Everything.” Sam and I both waved off concern. Dean just had pain, guilt, and shame. “Maybe I’m not ready to hunt. But I am just trying to do the right thing, man, 'cause I'm so sick and tired of doing the wrong one.” 

I bit my lip a moment and nodded. “I get it Dean...going through that...yeah I don’t understand it completely, but I get not wanting to talk about or...getting back to the job...it can help. Believe me...it takes time to feel like your normal again.” 

“So you want to talk about what happened to you?” He asked me. “We all know you're barely sleeping. You have a better gear on how we’re feeling than the other way around you know. You can talk to us.” 

I looked out the window. “I know...I’m just...not ready yet.” 

They both nodded in a quiet agreement. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By the way, i use the Supernatural Wiki Transcripts page for all of the in-show dialog, and I love the extra little note somebody added for when Tasha threw Sam on the bed and wanted to share it with you all. "Tasha grabs Sam and effortlessly throws our poor banged and still too frail and skinny baby on the bed, and proceeds to begin strangling him." I f-ing love who put that down cause they were totally a Samgirl/person. Thought you guys would get a kick out of that. Okay, up next, the 200th episode, Fan Fiction! oh, this one is going to get Meta, fair warning now. That was a really fun one to write. Will update soon!


	5. Fan Fiction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam, Dean, and I are getting back in the hunting game after our break when we uncover a high school musical that is based off of the Supernatural books and a disappearance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Hope you guys enjoy this one. It’s the 200th episode for supernatural and it was so much fun and meta to make a chapter about. Hope you guys enjoy it!—Indigo

  
  


_“Write what should not be forgotten.”_ \--Isabel Allende

I fought the shackles above my head. My ears were ringing and my vision blurred. “Please…” I said weakly. “...Stop...let me go.” 

A hand pulled at my hair to make me look up. But it wasn’t the face of my torturer from before. No. It was Jackson’s. But my senses told me it was Reagan. “Tell me. Now!” He shouted as he sliced into my chest again. 

I started to scream when someone shook me awake. “Hey. Hey. You’re okay. You’re okay.” It was Sam. I was breathing hard as he tried to calm me down. Sitting up in bed, almost hyperventilating as Sam pressed his hands to my face, he had me look into his eyes. “You’re okay. It's okay. It was a nightmare.” 

I closed my eyes as tears began to spill out. Then I heard knocking on our motel room door. “Sammy?!” Dean shouted. That night we splurged for two rooms instead of one. 

“I’m going to get the door, okay?” I nodded in response and Sam got out of bed to opened it. 

“I heard a scream and not the good kind.” Dean said waving off concern and fear, carrying his gun at his side, “What happened?” They both looked at me. I had pulled my knees to my chest and hid my face in my hands. 

“Nightmare...she’s been having them since…” Sam said lowly to his brother. “I’ve got her, we’re okay.” They both waved off worry and concern. Neither of them knew what to do, I figured, from their silence. 

“Go back to bed, Dean,” I told him as I wiped my tears away, avoiding their eyes. 

“Not till I know you're okay,” he said with determination and concern. 

“I’m fine.” 

“Dean,” Sam said, “I’ve got her. Go get some sleep.” Dean sighed then eventually left after a worried glance. I could feel Sam’s puppy dog eyes on me at that moment. 

I uncurled myself and laid back down on my side. Sam then got back into bed with me. He pulled me into his chest, his arm over mine to where I could take his hand. I closed my eyes as I fought tears again and I grasped it, trying to ground myself. “You can talk about it whenever you're ready, okay? I’m here. You’re safe, sweetheart. I’ve got you.” 

I let out a long but shaky breath. “It was awful Sam,” I whispered. He pulled me slightly closer, worry coming off him. “I saw....this time...in that horrible place. I was chained up again...Reagan was there. I don’t know how much more of this I can take…” more tears streamed down my face as he nuzzled into my neck and let his waves of concern and love wash over me. 

“You’re safe, okay? No one is going to hurt you. You’re okay. I’ve got you, I won’t let anything happen to you.” He whispered, trying to comfort me as much as he could. Sam always tried to whenever I woke from one of these nightmares. 

At the sound of his voice and his steady waves of love and warmth, I eventually stopped crying and even fell to sleep once again. 

…

I was up and dressed before Sam was. The rest of my night was filled with very little restless sleep. So I left and walked towards a coffee stand that was about a block away for all three of us. When I returned, I found Dean working on the engine of the Impala. 

Old rock music was playing from her speakers and Dean happily worked on her. “Morning,” I said as I handed him his coffee after he closed up the hood. 

“Thanks. How are you doing?” 

I gave him a look, “oh we’re not doing this.” 

“Doing what?” His waves of concern said it all. 

“Doing the thing where we work on Baby and you try to get me to open up about my crap. Not in the mood.” 

He chuckled. “I forgot.” 

“Forgot what?” 

“You’re not a morning person.” 

“Hey,” I said then playfully batted his arm. He just laughed and went to the trunk of the car. Dean opened it up and revealed the secret arsenal, putting up one of the shotguns to hold it up. Sam then came out of our room. 

“Hey!” Dean greeted with a wave of excitement. 

“Hey,” Sam said as I handed him his coffee. It was good seeing him able to use both hands again, seeing as he just finally got the green light to take off the sling. “How long have you been up?” He asked his brother. 

“Long enough to find us a case.” 

“Long enough to…” Sam and I exchanged a surprised look. “I take it that means you're feeling back to normal?” 

“Yeah, whatever normal is in our world. So, huh, right here,” he said then handed us a newspaper that I took into my hands and started to read. “A teacher in an all-girls school went missing in Flint, Michigan. She was heading to her car, disappeared, and nobody's seen her since.” 

“Dean, there's nothing here that even remotely suggests there is a case.” 

“There is nothing that even remotely suggests there _isn't_ a case. Boom!” I chuckled at him. 

“Come on, man.” Sam was still dragging his feet. 

“Sam! Out there, hunting. It's the only normal I know.” Dean then dropped his rifle that he cleaned out last night into the trunk. “We got work to do.” He closed the trunk with a slam. 

“Then let’s head out. I could use a case.” I said then turned on my heel. I could sense the boys exchanging a look and watched me go into the motel room. I knew they would worry about me, and I hated it. I was supposed to be the worrier. 

The next day, we arrived in Flint and headed straight for the All-Girls high school. Sam was on the phone with the police station getting some information on the case as we parked near the theater entrance. “Yeah, of course! Yeah, I certainly appreciate it. You got it. Thanks, officer.” He hung up as we all got out of the car. “So, the last place Ms. Chandler was seen by anyone was in the auditorium. Turns out she's the drama teacher.” 

A wave of annoyance came from Dean. “Ugh, theater kids. Great.” 

I chuckled at him, then Sam said, “what? I was a theater kid.” 

“Barely. You did _Our Town_ , which was cool. But then, you did that crappy musical.” 

I giggled. I heard about the play, but Sam didn’t tell me about the other one. “The— _Oklahoma_? Hugh Jackman got cast off of _Oklahoma_.” Sam said defensively. 

“You ran tech, Wolverine.” 

“Shut up.” 

“Okay, boys,” I said with a smile. “Can we get back to this investigation please?” 

We met up with the Principal and she let us in thankfully. After some speaking about the case, she led us into the auditorium, which was in full swing for a rehearsal of a production I didn’t recognize. An original I supposed. 

“If you guys need anything else, let me know.” She told us before leaving. 

“Great. Thanks, Ms. Salazar.” Sam told her. Then she left. As we were about to leave ourselves we heard a very familiar word. 

“You, idjits!” We all turned to see a teenaged girl, dressed in flannel, a fake beard, and a trucker hat try to nail the line. “You, idjits. You are idjits.” 

I raised my eyebrows at that. Sam and Dean exchanged a look, then we heard something else. “Hey, ass-butt! Hey! Ass-butt!” Another actress in a suit, trench coat, and angel wings holding a glass bottle. 

“Ass-butt?” I said to myself quietly. 

Then we looked up to the stage. Livley music began playing on the piano and a girl with a short blonde wig and a leather jacket stood on stage. She began to sing, “ _John and Mary, husband and wife. Bringing home a brand new life._ ” Waves of realization, embarrassment, and horror came from Sam and Dean, “ _His name is Sammy, I’m big brother, Dean…_ ” 

“Oh my god,” I said fighting off shock and laughter. On the stage behind the singing Dean, they recreated Mary getting killed in Sam’s nursery, then they brought out a cardboard Impala. 

“Cut!” It all stopped at the voice of a girl in a red Beret and glasses and the red school uniform. She went onto the stage to speak with the other actress. 

The boys then found their voices. “What in the holy…” Dean muttered. 

“If there is a case...It probably has something to do with all of this.” Sam told him. 

“You think?” 

“Incoming,” I told them as the director and a smaller assistant came running at us. Both were waving off excitement. 

“Hi! Oh my gosh...Are you guys from the publisher? I'm Marie, writer slash director. This is Maeve, my stage manager, and I was just, uh, dir-“ 

She stopped when I pulled out my badge and showed it to her. “Hi,” I said, covering for Sam who stopped Dean from showing there’s, as the actresses playing them were doing the same thing on stage. 

Sam introduced himself, “I'm special agent Smith. This is my partner, special agent-“ 

“Smith.” 

“Smith. No relation.” 

“And I’m Agent Jones, " I said cooly, “We're here to look into the disappearance-“ 

“There is no singing in Supernatural!” Dean finally burst out. Sam and I stood awkwardly as the girls in front of us waved off confusion. 

The smaller girl, Maeve, said, “Well, this is Marie's interpretation…” 

“Hah! Well...I mean, if there was singing, you know...And that's a big if! If there was singing, it would be classic rock. Not this Andrew Floyd Webber crap-“ 

“Andrew Lloyd Webber,” Sam whispered to correct his brother. 

“What?” 

“Well! You know, we do sing a cover of _Carry On Wayward Son_ , in the second act.” Marie said proudly. 

“Oh!” Dean said, with some surprise, despite his slight anger at the subject. 

“Really?” I asked with a smile. 

“It’s a classic.” Dean and Marie said at the same time. 

“Right. Anyways," Sam said with a wave of discomfort. “We're here to talk about the disappearance of Ms. Chandler. Any chance you two saw her before she vanished?” 

“Hum, yeah. She left around, like, what? 9.30?” Marie told us. 

“Any idea where she would be headed at that time of night?” I asked. 

“A bar? Or a liquor store? Both?” Maeve told us indifferently. 

“Wow. Really?” 

“She had a nasty divorce, last year,” Marie explained, "Most of the time, she's sipping on her, uh, grown-up juice, or passed out. Usually, in that order.” 

“Yeah, well, I don't blame her.” I rolled my eyes at Dean’s comments, “I'm gonna need fifty jello shots and a hose down to get this stick off of me.” 

Sam then laughed a little awkwardly, which I begrudgingly joined to cover Dean, while Maeve looked up at him with a bit of anger. “Maeve, right? You're the stage manager?” 

“And I understudy Jody Mills.” She replied waving off a little pride.

“What?” Dean asked. 

“That's great! That's great. Jody Mills, that's great." Sam said enthusiastically, trying to convince them, "So! How about you give a...behind the scenes tour, while your director show my partners Ms. Chandler's office? Deal?” Both of the girls nodded. “Great. Give us a moment, please.” 

“Okay,” Marie said and the girls walked off. 

“I’m gonna throw up,” Dean muttered. Then Maeve whipped her head around and gave him a nasty look. 

I chuckled at that. “I mean, I gotta say, it's kind of charming,” Sam said with a smile and some nostalgia. 

“Yeah, I mean The costumes.” I mused while taking a look back at the actress playing Castiel. 

“The production value, and the...No?” Sam said as Dean both gave us a look. “No, no. I'm gonna check for EMF. You look for...cursed objects.” 

“You go do that,” I replied. Dean looked down at me. “What?” 

“No jokes. Not a peep," he said in all seriousness. 

I held up my hands, “okay. Let’s just take a look around.” We followed Marie through a tour of the backstage. To which we found a table filled with props. Most being fake weapons. 

“How did you get all this stuff?” Dean asked, probably looking for anything that could have been cursed or hexed. 

“Some parts homemade, some parts repurposed. All of it, awesome-“ Marie stopped talking as she ran up to Dean, who couldn’t help himself and picked up one of the fake rifles. “Don't. Please, don’t.” 

I chuckled and looked over towards the stage. The girls playing Sam and Dean were standing next to the fake Baby. I raised my eyebrow, “what are they doing?” 

“Oh! Um, they’re rehearsing the BM scene.” 

“The bowel movement scene?” Dean asked, with a large wave of discomfort. 

“No! The boy melodrama scene!” I fought a full bout of laughter by covering my mouth subtly ad coughing a bit. Dean just looked confused. “You know, the scene where the boys get together, and they're-they're driving, or leaning against Baby. Drinking a beer, sharing their feelings.” The laugh was staved off thankfully by her words. They did do that very often, didn't they? “The two of them. Alone. But together. Bonded. United. The power of the brotherly-“ 

“Why are they standing so close together?” 

A wave of amusement and pride came from her, “um...Reasons.” 

I fought another laugh as I realized it. “You know they’re brothers, right?” Dean asked her defensively. 

“Well, duh. But...Subtext.” 

He called out to the teenaged girls. “Why don't you take some substeps back there, ladies?” They distanced themselves despite the confused looks on their faces. 

Marie then took us deeper backstage and eventually to a bunch of teacher’s offices. She guided us directly to Ms. Chandler’s. We started to look around the place, finding empty bottles of liquor and things you would expect a teacher to have. Dean then stumbled upon a fake robot head. “Is this her’s?” He asked Marie. 

“No! That's a prop from act two! I've been looking for that, actually.” She took it from him with excitement. 

“There’s no space in Supernatural.” 

“Well, not canonically, no. But this is _transformative_ fiction.” Dean and I smirked at that. 

“You mean fan fiction?” I asked. At one point I did do some googling on the books about the boys and found hell of a lot of it. Some of it was pretty good actually. 

“Call it whatever you like, ok? It's _inspired_ by Carver Edlund's books. With a few embellishments. But, as you know, Chuck stopped writing after Swan Song. I just-I couldn't leave it the way that it was! I mean, Dean not hunting anymore, living with Lisa?! Sam, somehow back from Hell, but not with Dean?! So, I wrote my own ending.” 

I looked up at Dean with raised eyebrows. Wondering how he was going to answer that one. “You wrote your own ending.” He said, “with spaceships?” 

“And robots. And some ninjas. And then, Dean becomes a woman.” I couldn’t hold my laughter at that one. Dean gave us both a look that made me quit laughing. “It’s just for a few scenes!” 

We headed back towards the auditorium and Dean had enough, “Alright, Shakespeare! You know that I can actually tell you what really happened with the-the Sam and Dean? A friend of mine hooked me up with the, uh, unpublished books.” I looked up at Dean with surprise as he said, “So, Sam came back from Hell. But without a soul. Then, Cas' brought in a bunch of leviathans from Purgatory. They lost Bobby. They met an awesome girl, who’s an Empath...And part angel. She and Sam hook up. And then, Cas' and the girl and Dean got stuck in Purgatory, Sam hit a dog. They met a prophet named Kevin, they lost him too. The empath and Sam get together. Then Sam endured a series of trials, in an attempt to close the gates of Hell. Which nearly cost him his life. Then Dean? Dean became a demon. Knight of Hell, actually.” 

“Wow…” Marie said with a wave of surprise. 

“Yep.” 

“That is some of the _worst_ fan fiction that I've ever heard!” She started to laugh, “I mean, seriously, I don't know where your friend found this garbage! I am not saying that ours is a masterpiece or anything, but geez! Ha! I'll have to send you some fic links later.” 

I sniggered again as Dean gave me another dirty look. Then he looked over the stage. “What are they doing?” He asked with a wave of surprise and discomfort. 

I looked over myself to see the girls who play Dean and Cas hugging, while Marie said, “Uh...Kids these days, call it hugging.”

“Is that in the show?” I raised an eyebrow at Dean’s question. 

“Oh, no. Siobhan and Kristen are a couple in real life. Although, we do explore the nature of Destiel in act two.” 

“Sorry, what?” 

“Oh, it's just subtext! But, then again, you know, you can't spell subtext without,” she looked at the actresses again, “...s-e-x.” 

I raised my eyebrows at the realization. Castiel and Dean both had a profound bond with each other. Honestly, some of the times that I had been around them, if not for my own distractions, they seemed to be more. Or on the edge of it. _Were they?_

I looked up at Dean, who after it sunk in for him, just gave me a ‘seriously?’ look. I smiled cheekily and shrugged. 

Soon enough, we finished up with Marie and met up with Sam outside. “Oh my word, it’s absurd but _amazing_ at the same time,” I told him as he leaned against the Impala. “One word. Destiel.” 

Dean threw up his hands as Sam said, “what?” 

“It’s apparently a ‘ship,’ between the characters Dean and Castiel.” Sam and I shared a look. 

“I don’t understand,” Sam said, without a wave of confusion, he just smiled. 

“Me neither," Dean simply said. 

“I mean, shouldn't it be...Deastiel?” That earned a laugh from me. 

“Really?” he said with a wave of confusion. “That's your issue with this?” 

Sam smirked. “No, of course, it's not my issue. You know...How about Sastiel?” 

“Samstiel?” I asked him with a smile. 

“Okay, alright. You know what?” Dean said with frustration and annoyance. “You two are gonna do that thing, where you just shut the hell up. Forever.” 

We both laughed. Sam then said, “Look, man. No EMF. No hexbags. None of the props are even remotely hincky. Other than the Charlie Kaufman of it all, I got nothing. You?” 

I sighed. “In Ms. Chandler's office,” I said, “there's just a pile of empty bottles and regret.” 

“She's just probably face down in a bar, somewhere. Or a ditch.” Dean said with a wave of disappointment. “Alright, so what? This-this all...This whole musical thing, everything, it's...It's all a coincidence? There is no case?” 

“Unless you're seeing something I'm not, no, Dean. There's no case, here.” Sam said standing upright. 

Dean went to the driver’s side of the car. “Okay.” 

Sam looked at him, a wave of mischief, “CasDean?” 

“Shut your face! Get in the Car!” We both did as he ordered while I laughed. I giggled even more as I realized Dean was looking around to see if anybody heard us. 

He got back in the car and we headed out. 

…

The three of us crashed at a motel that night, the next morning, however, I was waiting for the moment that Dean would run off for food or something so I could ask Sam seriously about Dean’s history with Cas. Unfortunately, the police radio fired up again. A student was abducted at the school. 

Rushing back, we found the police investigating the auditorium parking lot. And Marie was the witness. Sam and I finished speaking with one of the officers when Dean came up to us. “So, I checked with the principal. There's nothing on the surveillance tapes. What the-what the cops think?” 

“You know, the only clue they found was by the dumpster. They found the same flower, near Ms. Chandler's cell phone.” Sam told him as I held up an evidence bag with a small purple flower. 

“You recognize it?” I asked him. 

“No.” Dean replied. 

“Yeah, neither did we.” I pocketed it and we walked over to Marie. Maeve was with her, handing the girl a coffee. 

Marie was waving off anxiety and guilt. “Hey.” Sam said as we approached her. 

“Let me guess. You guys came here to laugh at me too. Right?” She said with a wave of defeat. 

“Why don't you tell us what happened to your friend?” I asked. 

“Maggie quit the show. She was trying to get it shut down, so, we were fighting. Then, she-she left, and I heard her scream. So, I ran outside to help. And...And I saw a scarecrow. It looked just like the one from our show. But...Alive.” 

I exchanged a look with the boys. “Then, what?” Dean asked. 

“It wrapped her up in vines and took her behind the dumpster. And then, there were both just...gone. So, I called the cops, and a bunch of adults just told me, I have an overactive imagination." A wave of horror came over as she said, "But, it's all real. Ghosts. Angels. Demons.” 

“I wanna believe,” Maeve added. 

I sensed Sam’s determination, as he said, “You should believe. You both should. Cause, it is all real. And so are we. I'm Sam Winchester. That's Dean.” 

I looked up at Sam with a surprised smile, while Marie and Maeve burst out laughing. “Ok! Now, look. I'm willing to accept that monsters are real. But those books are works of _fiction_.” 

“And you guys are way too old to be Sam, or Dean.” Maeve said and I chuckled a bit. 

“Oh, yeah.”

“More of a Bobby/Rufus combo? Maybe.” Sam gave me a little bit of a bitch face, and I stopped laughing, still couldn’t help but smile. 

Dean then had enough, “Ok. Alright. Little miss sunshine. We _are_ what the books called hunters.” 

“FBI hunters?” Maeve asked him. 

“Yeah.” 

Marie and Maeve looked at one another again. “You guys _are_ X Files.” 

I smiled, “Sure. Yeah, you can say that. So, this scarecrow, from your musical, is it based on the one from the books?” 

Marie shook her head and said, “No, I changed it. I got scared of a local legend when I was a kid. There was this old creepy scarecrow, on an abandoned farm, outside of town. Kids used to say, if it caught you, it would take you away.” 

“Okay." Sam said, "If this scarecrow is based over your version, then Ms. Chandler and Maggie might still be alive.” 

“You think the scarecrow was created by the play?” Maeve asked. 

Marie then had a wave of realization. “You think...It’s a Tulpa!” 

The girls then took us to the school library. Hopefully, they would have something where we could really demonstrate to them what it was. Though I doubted they needed the crash course. And I was surprised that Sam found a book with the symbol.

He found the page quickly and placed it on the table in front of them, saying, “Tulpas are monsters that are created by an intense, focused energy on an idea, or-“

“Or a story.” Marie finished for him. 

“Great. How do you kill an idea?” Maeve asked dryly. 

I nodded, “kid’s got a point.” 

“Well, in Hell House,” Marie said, “Sam and Dean burnt the house down, to take out the one tulpa they hunted.” 

“Yeah, yeah, you kill the symbol, you kill the tulpa. It's a-actually, a pretty good start,” Dean said genuinely with a small wave of impression. “So, the scarecrow on your play. Is it a person, or a prop?” 

“Prop. And it's terrifying.” Marie said with both of the girls waving off a small bit of fear at the mention. “We keep it in the boiler room.” 

“That's, uh, great. Um...Can you guys read up?” Sam asked. “Just, give us a sec'.” The three of us stepped away as Sam said, “Fine, so, this doesn't add up. Tulpas require a _ton_ of psychic energy to juice up.” 

“Yeah.” 

“Well, it's not like the Supernatural books are tearing up the New York Times best-seller list. And I seriously doubt this play has even sold out.” 

“I hope not,” Dean replied. 

I pulled out the flower from my pocket and said, “Well, but, you know what? This flower. It’s something right?” 

Sam then said, “I know I've seen it in the lore, somewhere. There's gotta be a connection.” 

“Alright. You two get on that, I'm gonna take a shot at burning man.” Dean said then went back to the girls. “Can you show me to the boiler room?” 

Marie and Dean went off to find the thing while Sam and I got to work. Sam got his laptop out and we began some research on that flower. Maeve was also kind enough to show me the history and botanical sections of the library. 

Unfortunately, as we looked into it more, it was looking less like a Tulpa and more like something else entirely. Something much worse. So when Dean and Marie returned, I hated to squash their celebration. 

“Thank you,” Marie said as Dean opened the door for her. 

Dean then excitedly said, “We came! We saw! We kicked-“ 

“It’s not a Tulpa,” I told them, turning in my chair.

“What?” 

“It’s not a Tulpa,” Sam said sadly as their waves went from victory and pride to confusion and a bit of amusement from Dean. 

Dean said to Sam, “Say it one more time, but just a little bit more Arnold, like—it's not a tulpa.” 

“Dude, come on.” 

“It’s Calliope,” I said interrupting his fun. 

“Who?” 

Maeve spoke up, “The goddess of epic poetry? The muse.”

I then held up the bag with the flower in it next to the book and said, “She's associated with this—the borage, or starflower." I showed him the book, "That's the picture.” 

“Ok, wait. If this is a _god_ thing, then what's with the scarecrow?” Dean asked. 

“According to the lore,” Sam said urgently, “Calliope manifests creatures from the story she's tuned into.” 

A small wave of frustration came from Marie, as well as one of horror, “So...The scarecrow is still alive, and we burned my prop for _nothing_?”

“Oh, that thing needed to burn.” Dean quipped. 

I gave Dean a look before Maeve said, “The only way to destroy the scarecrow is to kill Calliope.” 

“Right,” Sam said as we exchanged a worried look. “She uses these manifestations, like the scarecrow, to inspire the author, and protect them, until their vision is realized.” 

“Then, what?” Dean asked. 

“Then, she eats the author,” I said grimly.

Waves of Horror and fear came from Marie, “Ok, that's bad! Um...Well!” She turned to Dean, “You get your wish. Let's cancel the show.” 

Sam shook his head, “That's what your teacher and your classmate did. They tried to shut you down, and the scarecrow took them. Protected you, and the show.” 

“Ok, so, the scarecrow is the boogeyman.” Dean reasoned, “We got to take our shot with this, uh…” 

“Calliope,” I added for him. 

“Calliope. But she won't show herself until— _your_ vision has realized.” 

“So...what are you saying?” Marie asked. 

“The show must go on.” She was quiet as she heard Dean’s words. But the sheer anxiety and terror that came from her told me she was on the verge of an anxiety attack. 

I immediately jumped into action, trying to calm her down. “Marie, everything is gonna be okay. We’ll fight it and no one else is going to get hurt. Okay?” 

Maeve then said, after checking the clock on the wall, “we have to go get ready for the show.” 

Without much of another word, Marie rushed out of the room. We followed her quickly down the halls and back to the auditorium, where she ran into the dressing rooms. She grew more and more anxious as she kicked a trash can on the way in. 

As she started to hyperventilate, she found a paper bag and ran to a corner, breathing in and out of it. Dean looked at her with some anxiety himself and turned to Sam and I, “hey! Why don’t you-“ 

Sam wasn’t having it, “Why don't you guys rally Marie? I'm gonna, uh, grab some wooden stakes in the trunk, and do the blessing.” He left before Dean could protest. 

Maeve then looked up at us, “is Marie gonna get eaten.” 

“Not gonna happen.” Dean said with a wave of determination, “Soon as that curtain rises, we're gonna be there to take out this Calliope.” I smiled a little as he went over to Marie. “Hey! Hey. How are you doing, champ?” 

I stepped closer as Marie’s panic and anxiety began to dissipate. “This...This is all my fault. If I hadn't written this dumb play, none of this would've happened.” 

“Ok. First of all, the play is not dumb.” 

“I thought you didn't believe in this interpretation?” Maeve asked outright. 

“Yeah, I don't. Look, like, at all. But _you_ do. Ok? And I need you to believe in it with all you got. So that we can kill Calliope, and we can save your friends. Can you do that?” 

Marie then saw it, “Yeah. You're right. If Sam and Dean were real, they wouldn't back down from a fight.” Then she had a quick wave of adoration and hope. “Especially my sweet, brave, selfless Sam. There's nothing he can't do.” I smiled knowing Sam was exactly like that. 

“No…” Dean said awkwardly. 

Marie then turned around to face the mirror she was sitting at and sighed. “Ok. Let's do this.” She took off her beret and glasses. “I understudy Sam, so…” she grabbed a dark-haired wig. “I used this for my one-woman Orphan Black show, last year. But it's gonna have to work for Sam.” She then sloppily put the wig on her head to give herself a pep talk, with a full wave of determination. “Writer. Director. Actor. I'm gonna Barbra Streisand this bitch.” 

“Hell yeah, let’s do this,” I said with the clap of my hands, suddenly excited to help the girl put on her play. 

…

After the three of us got changed into some regular clothes, it was suddenly very much time for the show. Helping the actresses get ready and watching the tech team come together, I grew nervous. There was a loud crowd forming, and I only hoped that we would stop Calliope in time. 

Especially without the audience knowing and panicking in the process. Everyone was gathering in front of Marie, who now had her wig on perfectly, and she really started to look like Sam. She was checking on everyone. “Ok! Good. Good. Ok. Good.” She then said to the girl who was playing Dean, “Alright. Samulet?” She smiled and held up a small cardboard amulet on a string. 

“The...samulet?” Dean asked. 

“That amulet is a symbol of the Winchesters' brotherly love.” 

“Huh,” I responded, having not known there was such a thing. Sam then came up to us. 

“Hey.” He said as he handed Dean and me wooden stakes discreetly. I hid mine in my leather jacket, hoping not to scare any of the unsuspecting students. We all took an appreciative look at the actresses. I chuckled to myself a little seeing as how Sam and Dean, the real ones, towered above their play counterparts. 

“Okay,” Dean said, then adjusting the tie on the actress who was playing Castiel.

“Pretty good! Wait a second...Where's Chuck?” Sam asked Marie. 

“Oh! I-I, I love him. I do! But honestly, the whole author introducing himself into the narrative thing, it's just not my favorite. I kind of hate the meta stories.” 

“Me too.” Sam and Dean said in unison. 

“Ditto.” I agreed with a smile at the brothers.

“Alright, listen up, girls. Now, you're all here, because you love Supernatural.” 

The girl who was playing Mary spoke up at that, “Actually, I was hoping we'd do Wicked.” 

“Yeah, that’d be easier.” I agreed with her quietly.

Dean then continued, “I know I have expressed some differences of opinion, regarding this particular version of Supernatural. But tonight, it is all about Marie's vision. This is _Marie's_ Supernatural. So, I want you to get out there, and I want you to stand as close as she wants you to, and I want you to put as much sub and add text, as you possibly can. There is no other road. No other way. No day, but today.” 

I raised my eyebrows at the sudden musical reference. Maeve did too as she said to Marie, “Did he just quote Rent?” 

“Not enough to get us in trouble,” Marie whispered. 

“Now, you get out there, and you kick it in the ass!” Dean finished. I smiled, being reminded of his speech at the LARP battle he gave a few years back. 

“Aright!” Interpretation Castiel said. 

“Bring it in!” Marie said and all of the cast and crew came together with their hands. 

“Ghooooooost-facersss!” They punctuated with a whisper. I grinned at the boys as they looked at one another confused. 

Then everyone went to places. Then, Marie went in front of the curtain to introduce the show to the audience. “Good evening, everybody! Welcome to our production of Supernatural. I'm not gonna lie. It might be a full-on Gallagher show opening up this piece. Uh, so, those of you in the front rows may want to use the ponchos we provided for you, under your seats. You may, in fact, get wet on this ride.” At that moment, we could see Dean on the other side and gave him the okay that we were ready. “Um, I would like to thank the, uh, cast and crew-“ 

“Okay, she’s stalling,” I said to Sam. 

“Let’s do this.” He told Maeve. 

“Copy that.” She said then into the mic, “Curtain, kids. It's showtime.” Sam and I stuck to one side of the wings, the one with Maeve manning the tech team desk, and Dean stayed at the other to keep watch. 

The overture began and Marie then said, “Ok, um...And-and, that, concludes our introduction for the night. So, everybody just sit back, relax, and enjoy the show.” 

As she went back into the wings, the curtain rose and the play began. The large room filled with music and singing as we watched the group recreate Sam and Dean’s backstory. The three of us kept careful watch, not only to stay out of the way of the performers and the crew but for the damned scarecrow. 

Across the stage, Sam and Dean’s eyes met. We were both confused as he started to point in our direction. Sam being confused pointed back. Dean then spoke, though we couldn’t hear him, “Turn around!” 

Sam and I both looked back to see the Scarecrow. Taller than even Sam, the thing towered over us. Covered in vines and leaves, it was terrifying. We both moved to get our stakes out but the thing was too quick. Sam and I were wrapped in its vines almost from head to toe. The last thing I saw before blacking out was Dean trying to get to us. 

…

I woke up on a tiled floor next to Sam. Groaning a little, I looked up. Only to see Maggie, the girl who was originally playing Sam, and Mrs. Chandler. 

“Agent Jones? Agent Smith?” Maggie called out. 

“Where the hell are we?” Sam asked as he grasped my arm, making sure I was alright. 

“School's basement. The scarecrow brought us down here.” The girl replied as we staggered up. 

“Are you guys okay?” I asked them as Sam went to the door. He tried to open it but it was locked. 

“Yeah, I tried that days ago.” Mrs. Chandler said dryly, waving off slight fear and annoyance. 

“So what? We’re stuck here?” Sam asked exasperated. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up as a woman in a long, flowy dress appeared before us. I reached for my stake in my jacket, but it was across the room, between me and the goddess. 

“That's right. You're gonna miss the big show.” I stood protectively in front of Maggie and Mrs. Chandler as Sam rushed at the goddess, but he was pushed back and pinned against the door by an invisible force. 

“Sam!" I shouted instinctively. 

“Shut up.” The woman said with a wave of anger but also one of pleasure. “Be lucky that you're hardly relevant to me.” 

That pissed me off. “The hell is wrong with you lady?” 

“I’m hungry.” She turned back to Sam, “I've consumed many authors. Many stories. But tonight, soon as that curtain opened, I knew something special was brewing with this one. Maybe it's because the story's actual inspiration's here. I don't know. I guess I'm gonna have to kill you and your brother to find out.” 

“Don't you have to wait until the vision has been realized?” Sam asked her. 

She smirked, “Oh, gods! If I have to sit through that second act, one more time...There's robots, and tentacles, and space. I can't even.” She had a wave of annoyance. Above us, we could hear the music a bit. The current song, something about Cas waiting for Dean. 

“You don’t like playing by your own rules do you?” I asked her in spite. 

“No,” she said indifferently. 

“So, why this story, huh? Why Supernatural?” Trying to keep her talking as Maggie circled her unnoticed. Looking for a weapon. 

“Supernatural has everything. Life. Death. Resurrection. Redemption. But above all, family. All sorts of music you can really tap your toe to. It isn't some meandering piece of genre dreck. It's...epic!” 

“Epic, sure.” 

“But it is! One of the greatest stories I’ve heard since...since well that one about the boy wizard.” She looked at Sam with a smile, “And that...Well! That is my bag of tea.” 

“Bag this!” Maggie said as she took a large book in her hand and slammed it over Calliope's head. Mrs. Chandler then found the other stake and handed it to me. 

I rushed up to Calliope, who was still reeling and stabbed her in the chest with the stake. “Go to hell,” I growled as I ripped it out of her and she exploded with energy and light and purple goo. We all sighed in relief. 

After getting Maggie and Mrs. Chandler out, Sam and I ran back to the stage. Thankfully they were in the intermission. Dean quickly found us and was relieved. The scarecrow was destroyed and apparently exploded all over the audience in purple goo. It was awesome. Dean’s words, not mine. 

Dean went over to Marie to say his goodbye while Sam and I spoke with Maeve. “Usually, this is when Sam and Dean take off before anyone asks any questions.” 

“That’s probably a good idea,” Sam replied. 

“Thanks for saving my friends.”

“Sure,” I told her. 

She sat down at her station and looked up at Sam, “You know? If you'd cut your hair a little, you'd make a pretty good Dean.” 

I chuckled a moment as Sam said awkwardly, “Thanks.” 

“Well,” I told her, “congratulations on the show.” 

“Thank you, you know...I wish the boys had somebody like you. You know, to watch out for them.” 

Sam waved off pride as he grinned. “I bet they would have loved that.” I replied, “but who knows...you guys know only part of the story. Maybe they did find somebody like that?” 

“Hell of an ending,” Sam said as he took my hand. Lights then started to flash, signally the end of intermission. “One minute, folks. One minute.” Maeve announced. 

Dean after a moment or two came over to us in the wings. Soon enough it was curtain up, with Marie and Siobhan in the fake Impala. “Well, I guess we can go back to staring at motel room walls.” 

Sam then said with a wave of determination, “You know what, Dean? You were right. Staying cooped up isn't helping us. We need-“ 

“We need to get back on the road, Dean. Doing what we do best.” Marie said. 

We were all confused a moment, then I realized what it was. I smiled as Sam asked, “what is that?” 

“It's just...I don't know anymore.” Dean on stage said. 

“It’s the, uh...the BM scene.” The real Dean said to us. 

“Saving people, hunting things. You know? The family business.” Marie said on stage, playing Sam pretty well. 

“The...bowel movement scene?” Sam asked. 

“No! Just...shh!” Dean said to him as we watched the scene. 

I smiled as I watched the scene unfold, seeing this a million times with my boys. “You're right, Sammy. Out on the road. Just the two of us.” 

“The two of us against the world.” 

“What she said,” Sam whispered to us. I leaned into Sam’s shoulder a moment as the actresses got out of the fake car, and stood in a line on stage, with Mary, John, and Bobby, and one more person I didn’t recognize. 

They began to since, _Carry On Wayward Son_. “ _Carry on my wayward son. There’ll be peace when you are done. Lay your weary head to rest. Don’t you cry no more...Once I rose above the noise and the confusion_ ….”

I leaned over to Maeve at seeing the one character I didn’t recognize. “Who’s that?” 

“Oh, that's Adam. John Winchester's other kid.” Maeve told me, “He's still trapped in the cage, in Hell. With Lucifer.” 

The boys had a wave of guilt as they looked at each other. I shook my head. _A problem for another time_. As the song played though, I sensed the pride and love the boys waved off, seeing as they realized how much the words fit with their lives. And their relationship to each other. “ _My charade is the event of the season. And if I claim to be a wise man. It surely means I don't know. Carry on my wayward son. There'll be peace when you are done. Lay your weary head to rest. Don't you cry no more. Carry on_ …”

As the song finished, and the lights faded, Marie smiled proudly at hearing the applause from the audience. We all smiled back at her before leaving through the back. 

In the Impala that night, we headed towards home. The three of us were quiet, but love and pride were in the car with us as Dean drove on. He then took something out of his pocket. He had the fake Samulet and placed it over the rearview mirror as a memento. We all smiled at it, then stared on. We drove towards the horizon, forgetting our worries for a while. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up next! Ask Jeeves, a fun one that really makes fun of the mystery genre.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! All comments and kudos are highly appreciated! I love interacting with you guys so much!—indigo


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